Shiva's Fire
by TheUptownGirl
Summary: COMPLETE!
1. A Message

"Whoever invented heeled shoes should be strangled." She smirked and thought ruefully. It had been a long hike from the parking garage, through the lobby, up the elevator, down the hallway, and now to her apartment. It seemed to get further and further away everyday. Her arms were overloaded between her black briefcase slung over her shoulder, the groceries balancing on her hip, the mail clutched tightly in her hands and her keys in the other. After much ado, the Bristow shellacked door opened to her cozy apartment. Without even second guessing it, she knew it was going to be depressingly empty. But it honestly didn't matter anymore. She had become accustomed to walking in without having someone to greet her with the exception of Shiva Darshan, the black cat he bought her a few years ago. Shiva was named for the Indian Hindu God that brings suffering and joys to the world. Nevertheless, the door was pushed open and the smell of ginger and honeysuckles flooded her sense. She managed to reach out from her parcels and groped around for the light switch. Thankfully, she found it quickly and managed to turn it on, shedding a sweet yellow light through the hallway and flooding the rest of the apartment. The smirk on her lips grew less sarcastic and into a genuine one. This was her Mecca. She was home. The black ball uncurled itself from its corner and rubbed against her stocking covered legs affectionately.  
  
Sydney cast her honey brown eyes down to the exposed wood floors and greeted her with a warming smile. "Hey kitty-cat." She would have normally bent down to meet the mysterious black cat with the shadowy yellow eyes but Shiva's owner was just carrying too many things to do so.  
  
Completely exhausted, she made her way to the nearest spot to put her packages down. She threw her keys in a nearby ceramic dish with a loud clanking noise. The mail, piled high with junk mails and useless catalogs, went next to the antique dish on the terracotta-like table. The groceries and the rest of her bulky items were placed on the dining room mahogany table. A deep aggravated sigh fluttered over her painted peach lips. Everything tired her now. Her job was boring, her clothes were insanely dull, and her social life had come to a complete standstill. Where was the excitement that she craved for so much of her life? She honestly knew the answer but refused, adamantly refused to believe it. She padded through her apartment until she was standing directly center in her living room but not without shedding uncomfortable layer that confined her body during so much of the day. The black stiletto heels, the bulky silver jewelry, and the black pressed coat were all tossed in various places throughout her apartment on her journey towards the first stop of relaxation. The mail was promptly retrieved from its resting area and haphazardly she began to leaf through it, she hit PLAY on her answering machine. The flashing green light was obnoxious.  
  
"Hello. You have four new messages." The mechanic voice recited.  
  
"Whoopee." Sydney replied, completely uninterested. Her eyes focused on the white envelopes that had her name printed on each one.  
  
"Hello Ms. Bristow. Are you happy with your telephone service? Perhaps it's time for change. "the telemarketer began.  
  
"Don't care!" Sydney replied tossing a piece of junk mail into the black Asian inspired garbage can. She leaned over towards her black base phone and hit one of the four black glossy buttons with white writing that fell indifferent under carefully manicured index finger.  
  
"Message erased." The recorded voice said and quickly followed with, "Next new message."  
  
A steel Bristow voice spoke next, "Hello Sydney. It's me."  
  
"Hi dad." Sydney opened a serious looking envelope that turned out to be her electric bill. Another bill to pay; wonderful.  
  
"I was calling to tell you I won't be able to make dinner tonight. I'm sorry." Dial tone.  
  
Sydney puckered her lips slightly in disappointment. She and her father did not have the best relationship in the world but she did look forward to their weekly dinners. But what was so important that he had to cancel? He worked for a computer company-it's not like he was out saving the world or anything. She sighed again and shrugged her shoulders. It was typical Jack Bristow. He was notorious for letting his family take the backseat to his career. It was just a way of life that dear old Dad didn't come to ballet recitals or school concerts. Bending over again, she hit erase.  
  
"Message erased. Next new message."  
  
"Hey Aunt Sydney. It's me, Joey-"the bright voice of an eight year old brought a sunshine like effect into the room full of clean crisp Oriental inspired living room.  
  
"And Sophia." The four year old giggled loudly.  
  
"And Sophia-we're just calling to say thank you for the birthday cards. We love you." Her nephew droned on through the well rehearsed message.  
  
"Thank you!" declared her niece, who refused to be upstaged by her brother.  
  
"You're welcome." Sydney said smiling at her two young family members. The grin remained on her lips for a moment as her thoughts lingered on her blonde curly hair niece and the brown hair nephew that loved playing outside and being with their only 'aunt.' They were Will's children.  
  
But all good things must come to an end. "Messaged erased. Next new message." The recorded voice was getting really old really fast. She rolled in eyes part out of boredom and part out of annoyance. She honestly didn't know how she got into such a foul mood. Nothing could bring her out of this.  
  
"Hi Syd. It's uh, it's me. I-uh-know-it's..um-it's been a long time but." the familiar voice trailed off.  
  
The mail plunged out of her hand and landed near her feet as the shock of his voice filled her apartment set in, "Vaughn?" Her voice was quaking as much as her body. His voice was that last thing that she ever anticipated to hear on the machine.  
  
"But." the voice started again, "I'm in LA for a week and I wanted to see you. I still have the same cell phone number and if you uh-want to ya know, get together and maybe uh do something..I would really like that. Listen Syd, I know it's been a while but I really want to see you again. I miss you. I miss us. I know I shouldn't been admitting this to your answering machine. For all I know you have a boyfriend or your married or you don't even live at this apartment. But if you're still here, I really want to see you again. I need to see you again. I know you were mad at me but hopefully you're not still too mad at me. Please Syd, do it for us. Please Syd. I still-"  
  
"End of Message." The recorded voice cut off the musical tones of her ex-boyfriend.  
  
Sydney stood there, the mail having completely fallen to her feet and her mouth dropped open. Her body was completely immobile due to the emotions flooding her mind. She honestly didn't know whether to throw the answering machine out of the window out of rage or break down and cry or call him back. Geez. That last part was the more difficult part of the equation. Throwing things out of high rise buildings was not intelligent. Crying was not an option due to too much eye make-up. Definitely not worth it. But calling him back was either an option or a death wish. There was so much history between them that it was difficult to see with a clear and level head.  
  
He had taken a job out East and left her alone with only a cat for company. They were going to be engaged or at least she was expecting it. She was absolutely in love with him and in a little over ten days, he had packed up his things from their apartment and moved away. They had fought before he left and she swore she could cut him out of her life; he agreed. But as the days and weeks began to roll along, letters, e-mails, faxes, pages, calls and any other means of communication began to arrive in front of her. It was him begging her to take him back. She was so furious at him for taking his career over his girlfriend that she refused to make any contact with him. She wouldn't let the emerald eyes back into her life. He left her alone and jaded.  
  
Sydney had honestly thought she had found her soul mate. She loved him so much and he just picked up and left. The worst part of this was that a mutual friend had told her that he had moved on and found someone else. This was a blow to the belt. She was ready to make things up or do something..honestly, she didn't know what. She locked herself away from the world out after that for about three weeks. Her body shut down and she stayed home alone every night, sitting out on her porch drinking a mixture of cheap wine and salty tears. All of her relationships became severed and it got to the point that she didn't care anymore. Her world became robotic; wake up, go to work, come home, sleep and repeat. She threw herself into her corporate world, showering herself in black clothes as a way of grieving over her lost love. Somehow, she snapped out of it. Maybe she ran out of tears or wine or bubble bath. But something allowed her to get over him. This realization had only come a month or so ago and now, he wanted back into her life. She wasn't sure if she was ready to do that.  
  
A drama queen to the core, she knelt down before her answering machine like a pilgrim before a holy shrine and hit button. She quickly recoiled her hands to her lap and watched the machine with the most interest her eyes had flickered all day as she waited to hear the mechanic voice one more time.  
  
"Message saved." 


	2. It's Back, Isn't It?

A/N: So sorry for the delay! Things have gotten crazy and I know this kinda shorter than my last but just as intense! Have fun reading; get some tissues, and review, review, review!  
  
His brow was completely drenched in sweat and the compress on the back of his neck was not helping at all. His mind was completely empty of all thoughts except those damning his body and technology. The bathroom floor was cold against his skin as he sunk further and further down the wall as he leaned against the toilette. The liquids burned in his throat in his mouth. He gripped his cell phone tightly in his shaking hands. There were thoughts of calling her again and leaving another message but she hadn't returned the last few that he left.  
  
He felt feverish but consciously knew that he had no fever. He felt flu symptoms but knew he had no flu. This was a reaction, one he dreaded every time but now, he was in a different place with new doctors but it wasn't so different and they weren't that new. His life had become a massive circle of negations. Absolute fire was spreading through his abdomen and scorched his skin in its wake.  
  
"You shouldn't be alone after something like this, Mr. Vaughn." The doctor had said after he had completed the treatment.  
  
"Thanks." He replied, making it sound a bit more sarcastic than he meant it to.  
  
"Who will be staying with you?" The doctor inquired, completely unconvinced.  
  
"An old friend." He lied and quickly avoided the doctor's eyes.  
  
Now he regretted that decision. The chemotherapy had left him weak and dying, or at least he felt it. *Either let me die or heal me.* He prayed to any G-d that would listen. He didn't go to church or synagogue or a mosque but he needed a G-d right now. He felt as though he was dying. The hotel room was nice enough to die in. Housekeeping would find him in the morning and the maid would be hysterical but they would take him to the morge-  
  
His cell phone rang, thankfully bringing him out of his morbid thoughts, "Hello?" He answered listlessly; bring the phone to slowly to his ear.  
  
"Hey man, how's it going?" Weiss's cheerful voice answered.  
  
Vaughn groaned loudly than he wanted to and start to shake again, "I'm okay."  
  
"You sound like hell." The joyfulness was pulled from his voice, "What's going on?"  
  
It was now or never, "I'm staying at the Ocean Pointe Hotel, room 947. Can you come over?"  
  
"You're in LA? What? When did you get in? Why didn't you tell me earlier? Does Sydney know?"  
  
He groaned again at the thought of Sydney, "Weiss, please." He pleaded in between long, deep breaths for air. The nausea was back again and he knew there was nothing left in his stomach to go. He just needed a few moments to sit. He felt so weak and could only concentrate on his pain. His eyes had become slits from exhaustion and the graying circles beneath his eyes officially made him look like he had cancer. His hair was thinning and he just kept waiting to wake up completely bald. He kept cutting it closer and closer to his scalp. Pretty soon he would just have it all. His face had a gray hue to it and the only color were his war torn eyes that fell deep into their sockets, "Please."  
  
He paused for moment, "It's back, isn't it?"  
  
Vaughn muttered an agreement.  
  
"Okay, man. Hang on for just a few more minutes. I'm on my way." Weiss's voice officially flooded with concern.  
  
"Go to the front desk and tell them that you're there to pick up a package. I'll give you a key."  
  
"Okay, man. Hang on. I'll be right there." CLICK  
  
Vaughn dropped the phone into his lap and started to cry, "Why are you doing this to me? What the hell did I ever do wrong? It's bad enough you took my father away from me! My career took her way from me and I was almost killed more times that I care to count! Isn't that enough? Haven't I suffered enough for one lifetime? Why is my body turning against me? What did I ever do wrong? What did I ever do wrong?" He started to cry and slid further and further down, "Are you trying to kill me? I am supposed to die now?" His last words were lost for the tears started to take over and wrack his body. "I'm not strong enough to do this alone. I can't. I can't." With his last conscious thoughts, he grabbed his phone and dialed a number,  
  
"Sydney. Syd, it's me. Please, if you're home, pick up. I need to- to-to" coughs began to wrack his body and take over his speech, "I need you to call me or something. Please. I'm begging you. I know I hurt you but I need to see you before.I'm staying at the Ocean Pointe Hotel, room 947. I know that you're upset with me and I honestly don't blame you but please. I'm begging you. I still love you and right now, I need you." He was forced to hang up as the bile swelled in his stomach and through his throat. The weakness and the tears took over again.  
  
She sat by the couch and listened to his voice on the machine. Her body was curled up, wearing a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt. Her hair was longer than ever and tied back with a few pieces escaping the elastic and framing her face. Shiva was curled in her lap, purring against her owner's hands against her neck. It was a rare occasion that she was home this much and Shiva was enjoying every moment of it. Sydney's eyes had a foreign look to them as she starred straight ahead listening to his crying voice.  
  
He sounded so weak and sick. But Vaughn never got sick and he was the strongest person she had ever encountered. He always stayed strong when she was so weak. But he sounded like he was at his worst and pleading tearfully for her to answer him. She was still too angry and too hurt at him for her to answer him right now. Since that dreaded phone call, five days ago, she had a series of desperate calls on her answering machine. She started to screen her calls and let her machine pick up more than ever. But she was constantly checking her machine from the Joint Task Force. She was still an agent, yes after all these years but she didn't seem to be going out into the filed as much as she was used to. She kept going through partners. Barnett screamed that she had become bitter since "Agent Vaughn left the LA office."  
  
But he sounded so sick on the phone that she couldn't help but wonder what was going on. Playing this game of one sided telephone tag was probably getting boring for him but he was pleading with her to pick up the phone. Decidedly, she picked up her cordless phone and dialed a different number, "Weiss, it's me."  
  
"You have no idea how happy I am that you called me." His cell phone responded.  
  
"Why?" She smiled, thinking he had a joke or funny story to tell her.  
  
But his voice was dry and serious, "You need to get to the Ocean Pointe Hotel, room 947 right now."  
  
"Why? What's going on?" The shock began to rise in her voice.  
  
"It's Mike."  
  
She rolled her eyes, "He's calling you now too? He's absolutely that desperate to see me again? He's the one that left-"  
  
His tone became brash and arrogant, "Sydney. Stop. You don't understand."  
  
"What don't I understand? And don't patronize me like I'm some five- "  
  
"Mike has cancer, Syd."  
  
She went into absolute shock. Her body stopped functioning and the phone dropped out of her hand, much to Shiva's dismay, "Syd? Syd? Are you there?"  
  
There was no more breathing or thinking. All of that training that she had went through to react quickly to things and move on was absolutely out the window. Her tongue ceased functioning and her mind went absolutely blank. She tried so hard to utter a coherent sentence. She started to tear up and felt her body go absolutely into shock and start shaking. She regained herself for a moment and gathered her phone back to her ear, "Yeah, yeah I'm here."  
  
"I'm sorry to drop that on you but he's in LA for a new treatment and staying at that hotel. I really think you should see him."  
  
"He probably doesn't want me to see him like, like that." She stammered.  
  
"He's still in love with you. I mean, you know that right?"  
  
"Then why did he leave?"  
  
"Why don't you ask him yourself? C'mon, Syd. He's not doing that well. He just called me-"  
  
"Yeah, I just a message from him."  
  
"You knew he was in LA?"  
  
"For about five days now."  
  
Now he began to become irate, "What? Why didn't you tell me? Why?"  
  
She matched him temper, "Because I wasn't sure what I was going to do about it! I've been getting messages everyday for nearly a week now and I don't know what I'm going to do about it!" She jumped up to her feet, sending Shiva crashing to the ground with a much protest.  
  
"Well, now that you know, are you going to go and see him?"  
  
"I can't."  
  
"Sydney, he could be dying."  
  
"No, he's not!" She screamed adamantly like a little girl being told that Santa Claus wasn't real.  
  
"Lung cancer, Sydney! He was diagnosed with lung cancer and then it spread throughout his systems. He's dying, Syd, if this treatment doesn't work!" Weiss shouted back at her and it instantly quieted her, "He has lung cancer! They found a mass in his lung a week before he left! That's why he left! He didn't want you to know or to worry! There was a treatment on the East coast that was highly experimental but it was his only opinion. He went into remission but apparently, it's back and he's here. It would mean so much to him if you went and saw him. I'm in the car and I'm seven blocks away. I'm picking you up." And he hung up the phone.  
  
Sydney stood there in shock and collapsed to the ground, racking her body with tears. She sobbed inconsolably. Shiva came up and rubbed against her owner, attempting to console her but it was no use. Each touch of her black fur was a reminder of Vaughn's touch. She staggered to her feet and made her way towards the back to her bedroom in the back of her apartment and pulling open her closet, absolutely frantic of what to wear. The tears still racked her body and she wanted to curl up in a corner and never go out into the harsh world that took Vaughn away from her. Why was he finally back and now he was dying? She leaned against her beige closet doors and sobbed as she attempted to catch her breath. Her chest refused to rise and the lack of oxygen made her dizzy. This was what Vaughn felt like to her. He made her dizzy but made her cry and fall apart all at the same time.  
  
She settled on a pair of jeans and a slightly sexy and slinky black silk tank top that draped over her. She tied her hair back with a chopstick, painted black with a rhinestone detail and through a touch of make-up on. The tears finally stopped and she used her spy tricks to mask the red eyes and puffy eyes. She sniffled and finally looked in the mirror and smiled. She could catch her breath way and finally was able to think of something to say to Vaughn that would not be too sappy and sentimental. She was never the type to break down easily. She brushed her hand under her cheek, closing her eyes, and tried to remember the day that Vaughn left. He leaned forward, ran his hand under her cheek, kissed her softly and told her that he didn't want to leave but he had to..that the circumstances were unavoidable. Now she understood. She took another deep breath and placed her hands down, leaved over the sink, composed herself once more, looked in the mirror and as her eyes met their reflection, there was a knock on her door. 


	3. When One Door Opens

Disclaimer: I do not own ALIAS or any of it's characters..although I wouldn't argue if I did over Michael Vartan...  
  
Summary: He left her alone and jaded. And now, one phone will change her life forever. Romance S/V  
  
A/N: Thank you for all of your kind reviews! I hope you won't be too disappointed with this chapter!  
  
Now she understood. She took another deep breath and placed her hands down, leaved over the sink, composed herself once more, looked in the mirror and as her eyes met their reflection; there was a knock on her door.  
  
She walked quickly towards the door and drew a deep inhale as she reached for the doorknob. The tears still racked her body slightly as her thoughts began to muddle around her in her mind. She watched with interest as she opened the door and saw that Weiss was standing there, with his head hug down. He was dressed casually in khakis and a polo shirt. "Hey." She greeted and motioned for him to come in. She forced her a smile over her white teeth. It was time for her to act. Big time.  
  
His body remained immobile. "Are you ready to go?" He asked, as if unaware of her attempt of warmness from her tone. He refused to look at her and finally stood up straight, his hands into his pockets and looked away from her doorway. "Well?"  
  
She was quickly taken back by his foreignness. "Yeah. Yeah sure, lemme grab my bag." She stammered from the second time that day. Her body turned back and reached to grab her little handbag and grabbed her black leather jacket resting on a nearby chair. She pulled it on and felt pain rush into her heart at the smell of the fresh leather. It always reminded her of him. She instantly thought of the night Taipei that he had worn that fateful night that she honestly new that she loved him. Back in the present, she was just about to go out the door and saw her cat sitting peacefully curled up. "Well Miss Shiva, sois gentile pour maman, s'il te plait et regarde la maison. Je t'adore." She kissed her cat affectionate on the head, stood up, and walked out the door, locking it tightly behind her.  
  
"You talk French to your cat?" His voice in cold contrast to the warmness in her tone. He brought his eyes to meet her honey brown ones and she felt her face draw pale as the memories came flooding back.  
  
She adjusted her bag on her shoulder and modified her body to get rid of the tremors that started to shake her body. Her lips pressed into a thin straight hair before she answered. "It was the last thing that Vaughn said to either one of us before her left. Be nice for mom please and watch the house. I love you." She recited mechanically as if it was the pledge of allegiance or the multiplication tables. She kept her eyes locked on the hallway stretching before and started to use the same foreign mannerisms that he had used with her. She started to think about what she was going to say to him and how she wouldn't go running back into his arms. How she wouldn't kiss his elegant lips or be held in his strong arms. She licked her lips in her nervousness as they reached down the hallway and into the outside world. The hallways were silent and eerily quiet. She kept her back straight and pushed her chin up as she tried so hard not to break. She watched Weiss stay a few paces in front of her and had no idea what he was thinking. He had never been that quiet in all the years that she knew him. It had been well over five years since she first entered that building with her red hair and the bleeding mouth.  
  
Normally, she could read people and tell exactly what they were thinking and be dead on but this time, this it was different. Maybe her thoughts were so preoccupied that she didn't have the energy to do so but she couldn't figure him out. She was angry at him but she couldn't exactly tell why. But she followed Weiss into his government issued car and silently shut the door behind her without argument. Her arms quickly crossed over her body. She couldn't help the annoyance rise in her body as she contemplated how Weiss had kept such valuable information from her, "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" She asked at last as he turned the ignition and pulled out of the driveway at a frightening speed.  
  
Weiss inhaled deeply and tightened his grip on the steering wheel as he pressed harder on the gas petal, "He begged me not to." He was pushing ten miles over the speed limit as he started down the straight road for a while. It would only be about a five minute ride. It was midday and there was absolutely no traffic, which was rather surprising for an LA street.  
  
"And you actually listened to him?" She snapped, turning her attention to the window. "You knew how much I was following apart and you still kept that from me?" She let her hot air steam up the window as she fumed with anger.  
  
"I had to, Sydney." His tone was beginning to match her irate one.  
  
"You could have told me! I hate it when you patronize and coddle me! He used to do it all the time!" She shouted, letting her voice echo in the confined space. She felt her breath grew rapid over her lips and her blood start to boil in her veins.  
  
"Sydney, listen to yourself." Weiss responded, dropping his voice. "Think about it. If you were in the same boat, would you have honestly told him? You know how protective he is over the people he loves. He thought he was protecting you. He's broken and dying right now, Syd." He didn't let her answer, "You better get yourself ready to see him. We're gonna be there in two minutes."  
  
She pursed her lips in defeat and starred out the window. It was a horrible gray day. There was no way that this day could turn out well. She retreated back into her mind and felt her body jerk and pull against Weiss' razor sharp turns. "Jesus Weiss! Where did you get your license? Sears?" She braced herself against the door as he turned around to the left and pulled into the parking lot of the hotel, well over the speed limit.  
  
"Central Intelligence Agency will give anyone a license nowadays." He smiled wryly and got out of his car. "C'mon, Syd. We gotta make sure he's still there." His manners changed entirely. He was back to his old self. His eyes scanned over the tire tracks he had left behind. The phrase "burning rubber" suddenly had knew meanings. He smirked slightly at his unbridled attempt to break the law.  
  
Sydney quickly and quietly got out of the car and followed suit, scanning the narrow driveway outside the plastered white building. Her heels made a gentle noise against the harsh reality against her feet. The hotel looked so barren. It stood tall and stark against the graying sky. "What floor is his on?" She looked up and down the hotel, scanning it as if she would see her love waving to her from the balcony. Her mouth dropped open a bit as the disappointment set into her system.  
  
"Ninth." Weiss jogged towards the revolving door and stepped inside the white and gold lobby complete with chandeliers and fresh roses everywhere. People were bustling about completely unaware of the two finest CIA agents in the world standing in the doorway. They stopped and scanned the large open lobby and discovered the elevators small hall. There was no one standing by the four doors, two of each side of the hall leading towards the master ballroom. They were gilded in gold paint with a silver tiled floor with walls covered in mirrors. Weiss leaned forward and pressed the white pearl UP button and stepped back to stand near Sydney, watching the numbers beep above the door. 18.17.16.15 and so on and so forth. Finally, what seemed like hours of anticipation, the doors slide open, revealing an empty elevator.  
  
They filed silently inside and waited for it to arrive on the destined floor. Weiss leaned forward again and pressed the 9th floor button and again, they stood poised waiting for the elevator doors to ring open again. Stereotypical elevator music softly played beneath her thoughts that screamed loudly in brain. Sydney held her breath and clasped her bag tightly beneath her arm. She couldn't stop her heart from pounding so loudly. The elevator never moved more slowly in her life. She wanted to jump up and down and shake the jitters out of her system but she couldn't. She had to put everything in little white boxes in her head that were being stacked up on top of each other. But the stack was getting too high and one more would cause everything to spill.  
  
Weiss finally broke the screams in her head with a meek little questions; "Are you okay, Syd?"  
  
"What? Yeah, I'm fine." She replied, lying through her gritted teeth. The elevator dinged at the ninth floor. Weiss exited first and waited for her to follow. He stopped looking back and started to find Vaughn's room.  
  
"It's room 947." Weiss said simply, walking towards the hallway that ran perpendicular to the elevator lobby and was greeted by a mirror with two signs, pointing in different directions. Vaughn's room was to the left. The man led the way while the younger agent followed at his heels, glancing at each room and read each number with false interest. She was secretly dreading reaching his room and was starting to wish she had never answered her phone. Much to her dismay, they reached room 947.  
  
She hesitated and watched Weiss walk to the door and start to knock patiently. Another knock came with no answer. Another knock and no answer. Another. And another. "Mike?" Weiss finally boomed and banged on the door harder than before. He continued knocking for a few moments but there came no answer. "Michael?" He cried again. A series of pounds on the door followed again but still no answer. She felt fear rise like bile in her throat as she waited for the door to go pulling open. But it never did. Absolutely desperate and absolutely terrified with what could be lying on that floor, she started to look around, starved for answers.  
  
Due to sheer luck, the maid was passing by, "Excuse me, miss?" Sydney walked down the hall a little bit and greeted the pretty woman with a smile.  
  
"Yes, ma'am?" the skinny Latin woman asked, looking up from her cart. Her accent was strong. Almost as strong as her coffee colored eyes and her hazelnut hair.  
  
She put on a false smile and started, "Mi nombre es Sydney Bristow. Trabajo con la agencia de inteligencia central para los Estados Unidos. " she reached into her coat pocket and revealed her identification, "éste es mi socio, agente Eric," Weiss revealed his badge, "Necesitamos entrar en este sitio. ¿Puede usted abrirlo para nosotros? " Sydney rambled in Spanish. (My name is Sydney Bristow. I work with the Central Intelligence Agency for the United States. This is my partner, Agent Eric Weiss. We need to enter this room. Can you open it for us?)  
"Sí, falta. alegre ." The maid smiled at hearing her native language flowing over the woman's tongue. (Yes, ma'am. I will gladly.) She padded over to the door, took out her master key, and opened the door, "Allí usted va ." (There you go.) She turned, smiling once in each of their directions and carry on her way.  
  
Sydney started to walk towards the open door but Weiss quickly stopped her. "Maybe you should wait outside. Just so I can prep him for you or..make sue that he's okay." Weiss walked into the open door and left Sydney out in the open. She watched his figure disappear into the dark room and waited to hear desperate cries and the sounds of heartache fill but the sounds never came. Instead, quiet coaxing.  
  
Vaughn was lying on the bathroom floor still but now he was sure he was dying. This was destined to be his last day. In fact, he heard Sydney's voice utter his name and he was sure that Heaven was not far away. He reached up to the counter and found the sole bottle lying there. He took the orange tube in his hand, spilling its contents in his outstretched palm and found one round white pill. He placed it on the tip of his tongue and tasted its bittersweet taste. With the last remaining bit of salvia in his mouth, he forced the pill down his throat. It went down hard and he leaned against the hard ceramic wall and just waited for the sleeping pill to take over. All the while, he heard his door open..  
  
He entered the room like a cop entering a crime scene. Each step was more painful than the last. He couldn't help but remember the first time Vaughn had checked into this hotel for his first round of treatment. Weiss had never seen Weiss cry so violently before. Nothing was working and everyday, he got worse and worse. Finally, he was admitted to the hospital and that was the day that he told Sydney that he was leaving. Weiss had been there every step of the way and even flew with him to New York, to Sloane Kettering for more aggressive treatments. Devlin and Kendall were more than well aware with Vaughn's situation and opened a job for him in a New York affiliated office. Both of them were sworn to secrecy. It was Vaughn's request. But now the cancer was back and more aggressive treatments were looming on the horizon. Weiss honestly didn't know if either one of them was strong enough. And now that Sydney knew..nothing good could come of this.  
  
His eyes darted around the tiny room, walking past the bathroom, with its door securely shut, and into the heart of the room. There carpet was an ugly color forest green with gold and yellow comforters and drapes lined the depressing room. There were two twin beds, one ruffled from a restless night's sleep. Three duffle bags littered the floor and on the other bed, the one closer to the large window and balcony, there was an array of pill bottles. All five lamps were on and were shining a dull yellow light, "Mike? Are you here? Mike? Hey, Mikey?" He shouted in the room, as if the louder he spoke, the sooner he would appear.  
  
Vaughn heard his name being called rapidly but felt too weak to respond. He felt the feverish feeling return to his body and felt the onset of chills and quakes reach the base of his spine. The voice kept ringing out. He knew the voice belonged to Eric Weiss, his best friend. He wished that he could jumped up and met him with an embracing sign but he couldn't. All he could do was mummer a reply, "I'm in here." He said in a hoarse whisper.  
  
Finally, out of complete desperation, he started to check the three doors, two of them being closets and the third, the one to the right of the door, was the bathroom. There, huddled in a corner was the shell of a man dying by his own body. "Mike?" He approached the motionless figure, propped up against the side of the toilette. "Michael?"  
  
His voice grew soft as he walked closer and closer. He knelt before his best friend, stepping over the sprawled limbs. "Hey, man." Weiss greeted and placed his hand on his wrist to check a pulse and to feel his temperature. He knew this drill way to well.  
  
Vaughn forced his eyes open and now started to shake slightly, "Weiss." He had finally faded to the dying cancer patient, with a heavy heart and a revolting body. He had no color to his body and he felt like his was drowning in his own world. His eyes kept rolling back into his head as the high dose medicine flooded into his veins. His lips were pressed into a thinning straight line with less and less color with each growing breath.  
  
"How's it going?" He managed to speak. He knew the answer from his friend but decided to ask it out of habit. His tone was soft and smooth and completely out of his normal character. But this was a desperate time for him. His best friend was dying and it felt like minutes, not days or weeks, counted. He just needed to make sure that each day was met with the same attention and passion as the last. Weiss refused to bury his friend any time soon.  
  
"Had. Better. Days." He manage to spit out.  
  
"Let's get you into bed, okay?" With the most sympathy in his heart, Weiss hoisted his dear friend into his arms and carried the thinning body into the closer, ruffled bed. He laid him there, stepping back to watch his peaceful somber face. Not bothering to cover him with the heavy standard hotel blankets, he sat beside him for a moment, "Mike? Are you with me?"  
  
Vaughn groaned slightly and couldn't bring himself to open his eyes, "I'm so tired."  
  
"Yeah, I know. Did you take anything?"  
  
He sighed and managed to shake his head against the soft worn pillow, "Yeah."  
  
Weiss rolled his eyes out of frustration. He didn't know exactly why he was frustrated but he just was. Maybe he was emotionally exhausted from all of this, "Sleeping pills?"  
  
Vaughn's body was getting weaker by the second. So much so that he let his eyes shut and answer through darkness, "The only thing that helps with the-the side-the side-effects." He managed to choke out.  
  
"I need to tell you something, Mike. Sydney's outside." He hushed his voice.  
  
His eyes were forced to flutter open, "Sydney? She's here? You brought her?"  
  
"Yeah, I did. I'll bring her in a minute."  
  
"She can't see me this way."  
  
"Suck it up."  
  
Vaughn wanted to argue back but the pills had taken such a tough time against his system that it forced them to shut down. He was out cold..almost dead to the world. His eyes slammed shut and an induced sleep fell over him quickly and blocked out the rest of the world.  
  
Why did good things happen to good people? Weiss stood up and watched his sleeping friend for a few more moments, making sure he was okay. Was he ever going to be okay again? Ignoring the impending response from his own mind, he stepped back out in the hallway to find Sydney pacing.  
  
"How is he?" She pleaded desperately, not bothering to falter in her pace.  
  
"He's sleeping." He answered like a doctor informing a mother of her son's surgery and condition. He stepped back into the room and motioned for her to follow. She did so, taking small timid steps and was overpowered by the room smelling of stale air. She struggled to breath as she cleared the little hallway and saw her love lying on the bed, shaking from fever and from the damp t-shirt he wore that was doused in sweat and from the wet clothes he used to try to cool his body. She wanted to cry out and collapse down to the ground and shake with absolute terror and pain. But instead, her mind snapped into business mode.  
  
She walked towards him in a very professional stride and stood over him, finally letting her feelings show. She placed her hand on his forehead, "Does he have a thermometer? I think he has a fever." She caressed the lines of his face and let her fingers trace along his jaw line. Her form finally sat down near his rib cage and watched him with the interest of a small child.  
  
Weiss nodded silently and turned towards the three bags and started to empty the first duffle bag onto the ugly carpeted floor and quickly found the sought after item, "Here."  
  
She reached behind her, not bothering to turn around, and accepted the plastic tool and placed it in his ear and clicked the little button to get the degree of his body. Removing it from his sleeping form, she looked the digital reading sorrowfully, "103.3"  
  
"What?" Weiss moved closer to her and looked over her shoulder to read the four numbers, "I thought he had a fever but that?"  
  
"We should change his shirt so he doesn't catch a chill." She said. She reached forward and stroke his thinning hair, "Do you want to grab a fresh t-shirt?" She called over her shoulder and heard Weiss move to rummage through some of the luggage. She felt the tears threaten to overturn themselves onto her face. "Hey baby, it's me. Don't worry. I'm here. Everything's gonna be okay. I am not going to let you leave me. Not again." She started to tear up again but the more she tried to push the emotions down, the more they rose in her throat.  
  
She continued to stroke his head and made soothing sounds, "I'm not going anyway. I'm here. I'm here. Shh."  
  
Weiss listened to her tearful speech to her lover and obeyed silently. He walked to the first duffle bag he came across and dug through the piles of jeans and pants until he came upon a gray t-shirt. The cotton was smooth and fresh in his hands. He walked over to her and handed the t- shirt over, knowing that she was better off to change him. "Here."  
  
She accepted the soft cotton and turned it over in her hands a few time. She took the soft cotton in her hand and started to shimmy the soaked one over his head. It was there, to her horror that something she never imagined was revealed.  
  
A/N: So.what do you think? I've decided to put FORTY SEVEN on hold for a little while to concentrate on this one. Please, I take reviews seriously and try to make my work better with each chapter. So, please review! And just remember, there are going to be a few twists and turns that you won't expect. Remember, she STILL works for the CIA and with that, no life is ever easy. 


	4. You Came

A/N: Thank you for the wonderful reviews! Just some corrections.. Weiss was wondering why "bad things happened to good people" not, "good things happened to good people." AND "Weiss had never seen Vaughn cry so violently." Not Weiss seen Weiss. A few mistakes..thanks for the helpful hints (thanx Sara.)  
  
I don't own "Don't Let Me Be the Last To Know" or "From the Bottom of My Broken Heart" and I don't think I got the lyrics dead on but they still have the same effect! I went Britney crazy with this piece!  
  
THIS IS IMPORTANT FOR THE CONTEXT OF THE NEXT COUPLE OF CHAPTERS:  
  
SHIVA: pronounced she-vah..Hindu god of destruction and re-creation. Lord of the dance; one of the three major Hindu gods.  
  
She took the soft cotton in her hand and started to shimmy the soaked one over his head. It was there, to her horror that something she never imagined was revealed.  
  
There, cut across his tightly tone stomach, was a long jagged scar that reached from above his naval and across the lower section of his rib cage. It was obviously a surgical scar from at least the last ten months. She imagined Vaughn laid out on a cold metal table in the middle of a New York run hospital, going under anesthesia completely alone and afraid with no one to comfort him. She started to choke up again as she reached her hand out to trace the damage with the tip of her finger, expecting to feel a burning sensation beneath her fingertips. It looked so painful and empathy pains screeched through her own chest. It took her a few moments to realize that she still had vocal cords and was able to speak. "When did this happen?" She asked, managing to control her tone. Her hand became unsteady as she debated whether or not to keep her hand there. It bounced back and forth.finally retreating to her lap. Feeling completely out of control, she clasped her hands in her lap, feeling the raw jean material against the top of her hand.  
  
Weiss walked to the room's little desk and retrieved a wooden chair and brought it over to the bedside and sat down near the headboard, "July." He was well aware of the pain in his voice and wanted to comfort her but he knew it would do no good. The only one who could possibly comfort her was the one lying on the bed, almost dead to the world. He backed away silently, leaving the chair there, and moving towards the bed. He started to fuss with the little pill bottles, aligning them on the wood night stand like tiny painful soldiers.  
  
"Ju-July?" She stammered back, "But he left in June!" She dropped to shirt on the floor and starred at horror at the long purple disfigurement. Her brow twisted in the sympathy pains that started to etch themselves harder and stronger against her chest.  
  
Weiss continued with a somber tone, "He left to have a tumor in his lung removed. They though they got it all-" He rested his body on the bed, reclining there. He watched her with interested eyes. He had never seen her this way. No one at the office had ever seen her broken before.  
  
"They were obviously wrong." She snapped back and turned towards Weiss cynically, "Technology. Doctors. What do they know?"  
  
Weiss fully reclined and starred up the ceiling as he rapidly searched his brain for the right answers to appease her. "I don't know what to say to you." His eyes bounced around the little room and finally rested on the floor and discovered the t-shirt there. He sat up and motioned to retrieve it-  
  
"Don't bother. He's burning with fever. It's not worth it to try to cloth him. Sweating a fever won't work. We have to keep his body cool." Her tongue splashed over the words that her mouth had echoed that one time when she got so sick when she was all of five. Her nanny had repeated those words many times.  
  
She got to her feet in a cold manner and lunged over Vaughn's motionless figure. With one fluid gesture, she removed the sweatpants from his thinning legs. She revealed a pair of blue green boxers over the muscular legs. Furthering her quest, she reached over his warm chest and found the top sheet curled up on the other side. "We might as well keep him comfortable." She replied to Weiss's questioning look as she pulled the cream colored sheet and wrapped it over his body and discarded the sweats on the floor. "All we can do know is wait." She stopped for a moment. Her eyes caught the yellow gold rope chain dangling haphazardly around his neck. She reached forward, recognizing it instantly. There was the metal of Saint George, protector of boy scouts. His mother had given him Saint Michael, for obvious reasons but Sydney felt for his birthday two years ago that Saint George was appropriate. He vowed never to take it off and she promised to hold him to it.  
  
"You were never good at waiting."  
  
Shaking off any thoughts about their past, she continued to move about and strip Vaughn of his clothing, "Look where I got it from." The last step was to pull and fold the thin cotton sheet over his stomach. She managed to tuck it beneath his arms, leaving his scarred chest exposed. His tattoo was still evident on his shoulder. At least some things were unchanging.  
  
Weiss grew silent for a moment as he remembered all of those visits between Sydney and her parents. They were so alike each other that it started to get scary after a while. There were countless times, especially since Vaughn left, that Jack and Sydney blew up at each other, causing everyone in the Task Force Operations Office to stare and grow absolutely silent. Or there were those times that the arguments between Sydney and Irinia could be heard throughout the building and were watched by many on the security screens. Sydney had become arrogant, brash and almost cocky since Vaughn left. It was almost as though she wanted to get caught and have to deal with something new. Her life seemed to grow too painful for her to deal with and dealing with a life and death situation was much easier. Or at least that's what it looked like from the outsider.  
  
"Who knows about Vaughn being sick?" She sat in the chair Weiss had brought her and pulled it closer to the bedside. She took Vaughn's hand in hers and stroked it gently with her thumb. His skin was burning with fever but his pulse and breathing was still steady. She felt her heart coincide with his.  
  
Don't  
  
Don't let me be the last to know  
  
Don't hold back  
  
Just it go  
  
I need to hear you say  
  
That you need me all the way  
  
So if you love me so  
  
Don't let me be the last to know  
  
"Kendall.Devlin.Jack." Weiss sighed heavily and rambled on the names and shut his eyes so to block out her irate looking face.  
  
She immediately winced, knowing that her father kept something else from her. She wanted to scream and lose her cool even more but she just couldn't bring herself to. Exhaustion was beginning to set into her system. She reached out her other hand and stroked Vaughn's hair lovingly, "Now I know. And it's too late."  
  
"It's not too late, Syd. He's still here."  
  
She smiled a sad little smile and watched each breath come and go out of his lungs. His figure had faded so much but he still looked the same to her. She convinced herself that he still had the same personality and that his smile would still make her knees go weak. His veins still ran purple beneath is graying pale skin but there were obvious scars littered along his arm. The bones were beginning to protrude through his chest. His skin was sagging in some areas and pulled tight in others. She felt the tears threaten to overturn themselves again but she couldn't bring herself to cry. "How large was it?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"The tumor? How big was it?" She turned around finally and faced him with her eyes burning intensely.  
  
Weiss sighed and racked his brain for the answer. He knew this or at least he used to know the answer to this. Unfolding his hands from their clasped position over his stomach, he rounded his hands together to form the shape of about an orange.a rather small orange. "About this big?"  
  
She scoffed at the size and mimicked it coldly with her hands, releasing her grasp on his. Her torso now completely turned away from her sleeping prince, "That's a death sentence."  
  
Weiss sat up a little further, dropping his hands and propping himself on his forearms, "But it wasn't. He's still here and he's not going anywhere."  
  
"You'd like to think that, wouldn't you?" She turned and regained her position of holding his hand.  
  
"Sydney." his voice trailed off.  
  
"How many rounds of chemo has he had?" She fired another question and felt her face twist into an unpleasant grimace.  
  
"This would be his second."  
  
"And radiation?"  
  
"One round. You know he didn't want you to see him like this. That's why he left."  
  
She immediately grew sarcastic, "But the minute that he's back here and needs someone to hold his hand, I'm the first one he calls. If he loved me so much, then why wouldn't he let me know when something was wrong? Did he honestly think he was protecting me?'  
  
"He wanted you to focus on your job."  
  
She didn't say anything to his retort. Instead, she heard Weiss mutter something beneath his breath followed by a rather loud yawn. The bed springs, in a rhythmic turn, squeak horribly. He let out an uneasy sigh and the room went absolutely silent. Sydney felt as though Vaughn was about to lift out of his body and disappear forever. She had just found him and she was suddenly desperately afraid that he would leave her. That he would leave in a different way that he already had. At least when he left her alone that first time, she could call him or something but now if he left, how would he ever know how much she loved him? The tears began to burn in her eyes again and finally, as she heard Weiss's breathing become more regular, she started to cry once again, careful to keep her tears muffled so not to wake the two sleeping men.  
  
It was only when she certain that Weiss was asleep that she did something she hadn't done since her "mother" died when she was six. She prayed. "Please..anyone who will listen to me..I need him to make it through this. I don't think he understands how much I love him. I mean, I know he walked out on me and even it was to protect me..you can't let him leave me. Not yet at least. We have things to work out but you can't take another man away from me. You don't get the third. You got Danny, Noah but Vaughn is mine!" She gripped his hand tighter but careful not to wake him and curled her free arm around so that she could rest her head down on it, letting her eyes dance against the exhaustion that suddenly flooded the mid-Saturday afternoon.  
  
His eyes fluttered open and struggled to focus on the ceiling above him. Wow, that sleeping pill had worked wonderfully. He had dreamt that Sydney had finally come but she told him that she had moved on and never wanted to see him again. But for some reason, that didn't bother him. She still had come. His body didn't hurt nearly as much now and the nausea didn't seem as overpowering as it did a few hours ago. His eyes were still focused on the ceiling and judging by the light, he figured it was late afternoon to early evening. He felt a touch groggy as he waited for his body and soul to awake from the effects and as it did, his mind started to race with questions. He wondered for a moment how he got from the bathroom to his bed, or at least, he thought he was in the bed and why he was stripped down to his boxers.  
  
He continued to flicker against the harsh light. What the hell was going on? He fought to sit up a little ways, suddenly aware of something or someone clasped in his hand. As he eyes opened even more, he recognized the hazelnut colored hair. Unwrapping his hands from the sheet, he started to run his fingers through her hair, feeling tired mixed emotions about her being there. Her feet were still firmly planted on the ground and it appeared that she simply fell over out of exhaustion, landing near him. He continued to stroke her head lovingly.  
  
She felt the familiar hand against her head and started to stir. She sat up and looked with a drowsy look on her face. Her mascara had smudged beneath her eyes and the blush had settled into little lines alone her lips. She no longer looked perfectly done up and was now struggling against herself to come to.  
  
"Hey." He greeted, shaking off the remaining side effects of the sleeping pills.  
  
"Hey yourself." She replied, sitting up more and leaning towards him a bit more, "How are you doing?" She had to fight ever urge in her body to lean over and just kiss him. She had missed waking up to him for ten long months and now the loneliness ached inside her broken heart.  
  
From the bottom of my broken heart  
  
Even though time may find me somebody new  
  
You were my first love  
  
You were my true love  
  
He smiled his little half crooked smile, "You came."  
  
She felt the color drain from her face as she lost eye contact with him for a moment, "Yeah, I came." The tears threatened to show themselves once again and she ached with desire. Her words were cold unintentionally  
  
He reached his hand up and cupped her cheek in his palm. She placed her atop his and leaned into it. He felt the muscles in her face relax as she started to smile. "Weiss brought you here."  
  
She nodded and was finally unable to look at him. "Yeah."  
  
He took a moment to revel in the silence filling between them.  
  
"This is why you left me?"  
  
He couldn't answer to her. He simply nodded his head, "You don't understand the circumstances."  
  
The angry tears started to form again, "But I want to. Come back into my life, Vaughn. You don't know how much you hurt me when you left."  
  
He avoided her eyes and fought to sit up but the nausea came flooding back in full force. An unintentional groan escaped his lips as he fought to sit up, "It hurt me to leave you-"  
  
"I still don't understand why you left."  
  
RING  
  
RING  
  
RING  
  
"Is that your cell phone?" Vaughn asked, smiling a little bit reliving the days of living from cell phone ring to cell phone ring. Sydney dug deep into her purse, lying at her feet. Her hands undid the zipper and she quickly found her phone.  
  
Weiss suddenly jumped up, "Hello! I'm vibrating!" He reached into his pocket, suddenly very awake and found his cell phone. He and Sydney went back and forth on their one way conversations which proved to be very entertaining for Vaughn.  
  
"Bristow"  
  
"Weiss."  
  
"Oh my G-d." Sydney sunk back into her chair and felt the color drain from her face. She felt like she couldn't talk, even if she tried.  
  
"No." Weiss's tone was still matter-of-fact.  
  
"That's not relevant! Yes..now?"  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"It can't be!"  
  
"I do understand the importance of this-"  
  
"You want me to what? With who?" Sydney's eyes grew wide and she jumped to her feet in rage.  
  
Weiss pulled his legs around to stand up on the ground as he continued to speak, "Did we check out his sources?"  
  
"No..I DO understand but you can't be suggesting..Dad!" Sydney turned away from Vaughn for a moment  
  
"Are we sure this creditable?'  
  
"This is too dangerous! I have to draw the line somewhere. I'm not putting all of our lives at risk just because Kendall is-"  
  
"Are we sure she's dead?"  
  
"And he's the only one who can id the body?" Sydney starred at Vaughn in horror and pain. She started to mouth something to him but he didn't understand.  
  
"Can't we send someone in his place? Give someone his alias!" Weiss blew his top and started to pace back and forth, holding his palm to his forehead.  
  
"He's not strong enough-mentally or physically! He has a fever!"  
  
"We can't send him all the way to Fleury for something a rookie can do! Just because she's-"  
  
"I really do not think he's well enough to travel overseas- let alone a complex mission."  
  
"It's an unnecessary risk!"  
  
"There has to be someone that knows him just as well. I mean, she's fine but I'm not confident in sending him over. Can't you find someone else?"  
  
Sydney let out an aggravated, "Fine! Okay!'  
  
Weiss sounded just an enthusiastic, "Fine. Okay."  
  
They both hung up their phones and looked at each other before speaking. Sydney spoke up first, "Kendall?"  
  
"Yea. How'd you guess? Wait, you were talking to your dad, right?"  
  
"Oh yeah. Do you want me to tell him or do you want to?" She looked down at Vaughn like he wasn't there, acknowledging his nervous façade and turning back to Weiss. She held her head in her hand for a moment, waiting for him to reply.  
  
Weiss hushed his voice, "I don't know how he's going to take it. I mean, he will be able to home but there's so many risks involved!"  
  
"Do you want to tell him or shall I?" She started to grow impatient and by the looks of it, a migraine started to grow in her skull.  
  
Weiss grew silent again and motioned for her to tell Vaughn the news-  
  
"Will the two of you stop talking like I'm not in the room?" choked Vaughn rather loudly in his raspy voice.  
  
Sydney looked down at him and shook her head before sitting down, "I'm sorry to have to tell you this Vaughn, but-" 


	5. A Heart To Heart

A/N: Thank you for the wonderful reviews! I really appreciate them and I know this chapter is shorter than my normal but I like it all the same. Please note that this is written in the future.the closet reference episode would be Double Agent.  
  
"Do you want to tell him or shall I?" She started to grow impatient and by the looks of it, a migraine started to grow in her skull.  
  
Weiss grew silent again and motioned for her to tell Vaughn the news-  
  
"Will the two of you stop talking like I'm not in the room?" choked Vaughn rather loudly in his raspy voice.  
  
Sydney looked down at him and shook her head before sitting down, "I'm sorry to have to tell you this Vaughn, but we're going on a mission. We leave in a few hours." She caressed his cheek softly with the palm of her hand. She smiled sadly and gazed into his beautiful colored eyes rather adoringly.  
  
He was so confused by this, "Why are you sorry about that?" He struggled to sit up but Sydney forced him back down as she settled back down onto her chair. She left her hand on his shoulder and pressed him there for a moment. "Wait before you answer that; what's going on in Fleury? Who's dead? Whose body do I have to ID?"  
  
Sydney sighed deeply and retracted her hands. She clasped them tightly in her lap and starred at them intently, "I can't tell you that right now. We have to go in for a formal briefing."  
  
"A briefing? Why?"  
  
"Because you've had time off, you have to go through formal procedures." She said with a matter-of-fact tone.  
  
"No, why I am going in for a briefing?" Vaughn quickly replied, feeling suddenly nervous.  
  
She wanted dodge his question but knew she couldn't, "They want you in."  
  
"N-n-n-n-n-no. I'm staying put. I had chemo on Friday and I stay in bed until Sunday night and go back to work on Monday. Today's on Saturday. I still have at least twenty-four hours to puke my guts out!" He protested like a teenager. His eyes were wide with fear and he was officially panicking.  
  
Sydney sat down and caressed his face softly with the palm of her hand, "We have to bring you in." She cooed softly.  
  
"Like hell you do!" He screamed and seemed close to tears. He was a mess, both physically and emotionally. "Please Sydney. I can't. I just wanted to see you. I didn't want them to know I'm back. Please, baby." He dropped his voice and started to beg. "What's so important that I have to go? Please, just tell me."  
  
She hated hearing him like that, "You're going to have to trust me." She rested her hand on his cheek and gazed into his eyes lovingly. "Please, honey."  
  
Weiss felt completely out of place and like a third wheel. He turned his back to them and tried to breath normally, without sighing. He couldn't crack a joke or say anything. He studied his feet for a moment and placed his cell phone back into his pocket and rested both of his hands there.  
  
"How did they find me? I'm suppose to be in New York!"  
  
Sydney wet her lips and looked at Weiss desperately. She refused to answer but in part, she didn't really know. Weiss looked at her with equally unreadable eyes.  
  
He reached up and ran his hand through her hair and down her face. "Angelot," little angel, "why can't you tell me? C'mon it's-it's us."  
  
She snapped her neck around towards Vaughn as he spoke and tried to answer him the best she could, "Please sweetie, please try to understand.." She pleaded and fought both her instincts and Vaughn to get to her feet. He grabbed tightly onto her arm. Fighting her instincts, she found his clothes and stood at the foot of his bed, "Take your choice. Get dressed yourself, have me dress you, or we call a team in to get you." There was obvious pain etching through her voice. She put the typical Bristow façade over any emotion she may have been feeling. This wasn't time for love or lust. This was a time for business.  
  
He took a moment to contemplate this over as he sat up, feeling the rush of nausea sweep through his body more than ever, "The bottle over on the nightstand.there's one for anti-nausea. Get it for me?"  
  
Sydney obeyed silently and the third bottle she picked was the right medication. "Water?" She opened the bottle and revealed a tiny white pill. It was amazing that something that tiny could bring such relief. She found her spot on the bed, the clothes thrown over her arm, and the pill in her extended hand.  
  
"Don't need it." He reached for the pill, set it in his mouth and swallowed down-hard. He ran his tongue around in his relatively dry mouth. He heated these side-effects with such a passion and right now, he just wanted stay in bed and not move for a very long time.  
  
She looked at him for a long moment. Her honey brown eyes met his crystal green ones. There was so much pain being communicated back and forth without words. She felt bile burn down her throat and sympathy pains carved themselves in the greatest intensity yet in her chest. She moved her hands to cover the painful spot with the palm of her hand. The coolness of it started to soothe it away, "What have you decided?"  
  
Vaughn looked down, the worry lines apparent on his forehead. He studied the folds of the blanket intensely and followed one of the creases with his fingertips. The silence was deafening. The three inhabitants all seemed to be holding their breath. But Vaughn refused to answer. He felt a knot well in his throat and he didn't have the strength to go on.  
  
Weiss finally spoke up, "Mike."  
  
"I can't go, Weiss. I'm sick. I am sick." Vaughn spat. He looked to his friend, desperate for support.  
  
"You've come all this way- gone through all of this and now you say that you're sick? You were the one that kept saying that you were gonna beat this and come back. You were the one that kept saying that you missed it so much - that you let your own father down that you took time off!" Weiss lost his temper and started to yell, "Now! Get your ass out of that bed. Suck it up. I know you're a hell of a lot stronger that what the hell you're doing now." He paused for a moment and walked towards the door. "Sydney, I'll meet you outside." He stormed out of the tiny hotel room angrily. The door slammed loudly.  
  
Sydney arched her eyebrows, "Well." She was impressed by Weiss's tactics. She had never seen him so serious, let alone stand up to his best friend. "What's your decision?" Her eyes were locked on the door and she had to fight the little smile playing on her lips. Weiss did have (pardon this expression) balls. She looked at Vaughn again, who was now standing.  
  
"I can get dressed myself. I'm sick. I'm not an invalid." Angrily, he managed to throw the meager looking blanket off of his legs. With much effort, he fought to his feet and felt the jell-o feeling rush through his legs.  
  
"I never said you were." Sydney snapped back, "Do you want me to get you clothes?"  
  
"I am more than capable to do this for myself." He fought further to get to his suitcase, shaking off the help of Sydney. She gave into the shadows and found solace on the bed, watching Vaughn struggle with himself. She knew that she couldn't help him. If she did, he would never heal over. She watched his chest heave with heavy breaths that came uneasily through his mouth. It pained her to see him that way  
  
She looked away from him and concentrated on a little knick in the wall. "I know that now."  
  
He craned his neck around to look at her, "What's that suppose to mean?"  
  
She raised his chin slightly, "Those messages you left for me. You sounded like you were dying."  
  
Vaughn's eyes burned like flames. There was obvious anger lying there. "You stopped returning my calls." His tone was harsh. He groaned slightly as he grabbed a pair of jeans and a gray polo shirt.  
  
"You left me." She said equally as harsh. "What was I suppose to think? I thought you had gone back to Alice."  
  
"I thought you knew me better than that!"  
  
"Then why the hell did you keep something like from me? Why did you think that I wouldn't be able to deal with this?" She sat down on the bed and watched him impatiently. She crossed her legs and felt the love that she felt for him drain like the color from her face. "I don't think you realized how much you hurt me when you left. For all I knew, you had gone back to Alice?"  
  
"You thought I went back to Alice?" He started to curse underneath his breath as he fought with the yards of fabric.  
  
"What else was I suppose to think? One day you were here and the next day, gone." She scoffed ruefully for a moment as she reflect, "Dr. Barnett will be happy that you're back. Apparently, I got aggressive when you left."  
  
Vaughn smiled sadly, "Aggressive? That's my girl."  
  
"Yeah.well.your leaving had an effect on me."  
  
Vaughn struggled to get dressed, feeling the fabric stick to his sweaty body. "It hurt me so much to leave you." He pulled his pants on, resting on the dresser top for support. He finally turned around to face her and simply glared at her for a moment.  
  
"I still don't understand why you couldn't let me help you." Sydney retorted, using a similar hurt expression. She crossed her arms over she chest and her legs over each other. She was officially was defensive. She watched him struggle with himself and groan slightly with each movement.  
  
His eyes flashed with anger, "Stop it, Sydney!" He manage to belt. His raspy voice echoed throughout the space, almost knocking him over. He was still so weak. "There are just some things I have to do on my own. You're going to have to understand that."  
  
"I'm sorry but I don't understand. If you loved me-"  
  
He moved to get his shirt and hastily put it on, talking through the fabric. "Don't play the love me card, Syd." His voice started to nearly yelling.  
  
And there went her temper. "Why not? I loved you and you just walked out on me because you had to 'do some things on your own?' I'm sorry but I can't accept that! You've helped me in the worst situations and when you're in trouble, why won't you let me do the same?"  
  
"Because all those times were different!"  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because!"  
  
"I'm sorry, Vaughn, but that's not a good enough answer! I want to help you but I can't if you won't let me help!"  
  
"No one can help me!" His body finally wracked with a cough which eventually led to dry heaves that shook his chest. The demise of him standing soon followed and he was sent crashing to his knees. The coughing continued for a moment and he gripped his clothing clad chest. "No one can help me."  
  
Hesitantly, she walked towards him and crouched down beside him, "Let me help you then." She moved to comfort him but he sunk further down onto his knees. Finally, she won the battle and wrapped her arms around him. She felt his hacking cough turn into a dry sob. She kissed his forehead and cradled him tightly in her arms. She felt dry tears kiss her knees as he curled closer to her body. "Let me help. Please, sweetie, let me help." His body felt so warm against hers and all she could do was wish she could make the pain go away for him.  
  
"You can't." He finally managed to gasp and sat up. His face was paler than ever and his frame was smaller than ever. No one ever would have guessed that this man, curled at her feet was one of the CIA's top agents. He looked so small and so miserable all curled up in her arms. He wanted to reach out and hold onto life so strong but he couldn't bring himself to do so. Right now it was easier to accept defeat. "No one can help me."  
  
They stayed like that for a long time. His body melted towards and she held him tightly. It was the first time she had ever seen him cry. He was so weak and this cancer had really taken a toll on him- both physically and emotionally. Not only was his body rejecting itself but his mind was rejecting everything too. She tried to comfort him and hold him tightly but no matter what it seemed, her touch didn't seem to do. She finally realized why she had come to see him. It wasn't because of Weiss forcing her or anything.it was because deep down, past the hurt and the pain, she still loved him.  
  
When the tears threaten to overturn onto her own cheeks, she snapped into gear, "C'mon, sweetie. Why don't we get going and we'll talk about this in the car ride over?" She sat him up all the way and ran her hand underneath his emerald colored eyes. Their eyes connected again and that adolescent emotion was shared between them again. There was love being shared between them again. The electricity that used to fill the warehouse and the briefings.all of that was back and better than ever. She felt more alive when he was there and she prayed that he felt the same.  
  
She urged him up to his feet. He wobbled slightly as his feet were asleep. She steadied him for a moment and watched him intently. "C'mon." She tucked her arm around his waist and slowly started to move across the aged floor towards the door.  
  
He moaned slightly and took painfully slow and small steps, "Why are you here? Why did you come after all this time?"  
  
There was a sudden change in emotion in the room. She could no longer feel anger towards him or resentment. The constant moaning and groaning that fluttered past his lips threw her emotions into places that she forgot the human spirit could go. Compartmenting was no longer an option. These moments were too real and it almost life better to feel such intense emotions.  
  
Sydney drew her mouth closed and felt her tongue swell in her throat, "How could I not come? I've been mad at you long enough. It's time to put it behind us." Her hands were wrapped around his waist and she felt as though they would never reach the door. She had her hand on the doorknob when he spoke up again.  
  
"I need shoes." He said, rather meekly.  
  
She laughed slightly at this and looked down at his bare feet, "I guess you do." She let her laughter fill the tiny space like a dancing little melody. "We'll have Weiss bring you some."  
  
"When in doubt, send Weiss?"  
  
"You bet." She laughed lightly and opened the door. She couldn't tell him the truth about the mission and who was dead. There were too many dangers that went along with this op..dangers she hadn't seen in a long time. And this time, her life, Vaughn's life, and two other lives hung in the balance. How was this ever going to be explained?  
  
Ah well.  
  
No cliff hanger! But there are still some unresolved questions.  
  
How did they find out that Vaughn was in LA?  
  
What's the mission going to be?  
  
Who died?  
  
What's going on in Fleury?  
  
Will Vaughn die or go into remission?  
  
If you have any questions, comments, or other suggestions, please let me know. I love getting feedback and hopefully the twists and turns that are coming up won't through you too far off course! 


	6. Moments of Absolute Silence

The car ride there was absolutely silent. Weiss drove, of course, with Sydney and Vaughn curled up together in the backseat. Vaughn was feeling rather weak again and decided to rest his eyes for another moment. They were a good forty-five minutes away and those minutes were precious sleep time. Sydney sat straight, one arm propped up against the window and the other stroking Vaughn's sleep worn hair. The cool glass felt good against her bare arm and part of her forehead.  
  
"You rest your eyes for a little while, okay? I'll wake you when we get there?" Sydney coaxed his down and felt his head hit her lap softly.  
  
His speech started to mumble again and his eyes started to lose their battle against sleep. His body was so sore from doing absolutely nothing and he almost felt like bed sores were threatening to appear along his back. He couldn't stand the feeling of his tight skin wand wanted to escape it so desperately. It felt dry and refused to stretch to fit his form. He groaned softly as he fought against himself to sleep for a few more minutes. His mind was racing, however. He didn't know what to expect at the Joint Ops Center and he still couldn't believe that Sydney was so close to him.  
  
As tossing and turning for probably five solid minutes, his movement ceased and his breathing became more regular. His breath tickled her thighs as he curled up close into the fetal position. He was deep into whatever sleep he was in and it was obviously dreamless. He didn't move or bother to stir the entire ride. It was all the same to Sydney. She was completely lost in herself, trying to figure out all of the emotions going on in her head. Regardless, her hand kept going threw his hair. Her eyes fluttered slightly and she felt so insanely overwhelmed. It was too much to deal with at once. She tried to make sense of it all. She wanted nothing more than to sink into the black interior of the car and hide there until the whole world stopped turning. She just needed everything to stop moving so quickly.  
  
Why did someone so close to Vaughn had to die and why now? It would be too much for him to deal with. Any sane person would collapse and be sent into a mental ward the moment they were forced to deal with even half of what Vaughn had to deal with. She felt herself breaking with the news that she was keeping from him. She too was uncomfortable in her skin. It felt tight and foreign and each movement made it worse than before. Her body wriggled awkwardly. She sighed heavily and adjusted her head so that she could at his sleeping form. He looked so peaceful, curled up in her lap. She continued to caress his face as Weiss looked into the review mirror at them. He smiled lightly at the sight of Sydney finally happy.  
  
When there was a little ways to go in their little journey, Weiss finally spoke up tentatively, "So I'm guessing you two made up?"  
  
She was snapped out of her reverie quickly and startled by the harsh reality that suddenly faced her. Her eyes moved away from the window and she moved her arm away the cool window. She inhaled sharply and tried to get herself to answer coherently, "Wha? Yeah, yeah I guess. I guess you could say that." Her voice replied uneasily. She felt a smile play on her lips as she leaned forward and kissed his hairline gently. "I didn't realize how much I missed him." A sober expression cast over her face and she licked her lips and attempted to plunge back into her thoughts. She just wanted to sort everything out.  
  
Weiss obviously didn't share the same sentiment, "No offense, Syd, but you were not fun to work with for the past couple of months." He smiled a little into the rear view mirror. He wanted so desperately to lighten the mood for both of their sakes. The male agent was going insane from all the 'drama' going down. He sighed uncomfortably as the air got very heavy and smothering. It was amazing how thick oppressing bright sunny air could be. The LA smog seemed worse than ever and Weiss was waiting for the car to implode. It was his term to shift uncomfortably in his seat.  
  
The smile grew a little bit as she realized how right he was, "Yeah I know. But hey, you got to see the other side of me. Not many people got to see the bitchy Sydney." Her head turned to stare out the window again, hoping to end the conversation but no such luck. As soon as she went to descend into herself when Weiss spoke up. She grimaced as the sound of his voice sounded. She didn't mean to be rude but she did have a lot, a lot, a lot to sort out. Her eyes shot towards Weiss in an exhausted manner.  
  
Weiss raised his eyebrows in disbelief, "You are kidding me, right? I mean, c'mon Syd. You were like that for ten months. That's a really long time and a lot of people to come encounter with."  
  
Sydney sank further back into her seat and changed her sight line to out the window, not really caring about the conversation or what Weiss thought of her. She could still look out the window and talk to him at the same time. The sky had clouded over and rain threatened overhead. She almost wished it would rain. They had been raging through a heat wave for about three weeks now and the refreshing teardrops of the sky were desperately needed. She continued to stroke his forehead as she thought of the difficulties she had faced over the past few months. Things had gotten difficult for her. "It was tough. I never depended on anyone before and then all of a sudden, I found myself dependant on him."  
  
She drew quiet for a moment, "And as soon as he left, I became really depressed. I mean, really depressed." She withdrew her hands from Vaughn's face and crossed her arms over her chest, tracing the vein on the inside of left elbow with her fingertip. She felt her heart beating cautiously in her veins. Her eyes looked down upon familiar spot that always seemed to soothe her. It was a strange habit she had picked up not too long ago and it had stuck. "I had a breakdown and it got harder and harder to get up in the morning. I had to do something to snap myself out of it and nothing seemed to be working. And of course, if the agency found out-I would have been suspended." Her voice grew hoarse as the subject became more and more sensitive.  
  
Weiss had stopped at a red light and turned around to face her. He was obviously worried and felt so old and mature at that moment. There was fear racing through his head as he watched Sydney trace the vein in her arm. Was it possible that she had turned to drugs? No, she would never do anything like that. She cared too much about her career and the well-being of others to turn to something like that. He wanted so much to open his mouth and beg a response from her but absolutely couldn't.  
  
He felt an overwhelming surge of emotions as the cars around him began to honk. The light had turned green moments earlier and he was too wrapped up in emotional distress to notice. Rather unwillingly, he turned back and continued the long drive towards the Ops Center. His foot pressed down on the gas gingerly as he tried to sort out of his emotions. Everything was running around his head and it seemed like nothing could ever sort its way out. "Syd, you didn't-I mean, you didn't-"  
  
She knew what she was thinking and shook her head, "Turn to drugs?" She smirked ruefully.  
  
"Yeah." Weiss managed to gasp, gripping the steering wheel that much harder. His sight line darted back and forth between the road and the rearview mirror.  
  
Sydney bit down on her lip hard before answering, "I thought about it."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Yeah. I thought about drugs. A lot. I even found some old pain pills from an old injury. Actually, they were from when my mother shot me. Anyway, I had them in my hand for the longest time and..and," She opened her palm and starred down at it for a long time, "They seemed so small and it seemed so easy. Just pop the pills and call it day. It would go away for at least a few hours. They were so small. So innocent looking. Do you know that they were pink? Of all the colors of the world; they were pink."  
  
She closed her palm and placed it back on the nape of Vaughn's neck. She let her eyes rest on his motionless form, "I just sat in my kitchen for the longest time and thought about everything. And then my cat...the one that Vaughn gave me, Shiva, jumped into my lap and she brought me back. I realized that I was still living. That I had something that depended on me and I couldn't let that change. I mean, I know that she's only a cat but I still felt like I was in charge of her. So, I threw myself into my work." She ended her little speech with a matter of fact tone and inhaled deeply. A sudden flood of emotions took her over as she remembered the past. She was so emotional around him and felt like there were always such things going around when he was involved. But that was the way their relationship had always gone.  
  
"So you didn't take the pills?"  
  
Sydney smiled down at Vaughn, "No."  
  
"So, how did you snap out it?"  
  
Sydney thought about this for a long time before she answered. "I'll letcha know when I do."  
  
He still couldn't get over the pill thing, "You were really going to take those pills?"  
  
"It seemed like such an easy out. You know, before I never understood how people became drug addicts or alcoholics or anything like that. And then suddenly, there I was with pills in one hand and a new bottle of alcohol in the cabinet. It was so funny, actually. I couldn't decide to get drunk or take the pills. My mind kept switching back and forth." She smiled and laughed a little, "But the pills seemed easier. I had taken the hard way so many times that for once, I wanted to do something the easy way. One swallow and within the hour, the whole world would melt away." She paused as she swallowed down-hard. Weiss opened his mouth to continue but she held up her hand to stop him, "I went to swallow them. I had them in my mouth and I realized that I didn't like taking the easy way out. I sat in my kitchen for hours and tried to psychoanalyze myself and figure out what exactly I was falling apart over and why etc. I was falling apart over love." Her face twisted in a disgusted form, "And love is never worth falling apart over."  
  
Weiss didn't know how to react, "How can you say that?"  
  
"Because it's true!" She exclaimed.  
  
"Sydney! Stop talking like this! You're not be rational."  
  
She sat up in absolute defiance and started to feel anger pulse through her veins. "I am being perfectly rational." She defended herself, "I was always one of those girls in high school that never believed in high school love, probably because I was never in love in high school. Then, I believed in college, there was no such thing as love. Then, I met Noah and everything changed and then Noah left me and Danny came into my life. When Danny died, I stopped believing and when Vaughn really started to play a role in my life, jeez, I started to believe again. And as soon as he left me, I stopped believing. My life is a vicious cycle. I believed and then I don't and then I do and then I don't. It's absolutely horrible. But sooner or later, it has to stop and I'm determined to make sure that when it does, I believe."  
  
Wow. Two speeches in five minutes? That was pretty impressive considering she hadn't spoken too much over the last couple of months. She had withdrawn from the world and hated everything in it. She felt rather bad, actually. She had taken a lot of anger and resentment that felt towards Vaughn out on Weiss. She knew that Weiss knew what was going on with him and yet, he still refused to give any details. Guilt took over as she looked up from her love.  
  
"So, do you believe yet?"  
  
"I feel like a five year old being asked if she believes in fairies."  
  
"Do you believe yet?" Weiss asked, getting slightly sentimental as they approached the looming Joint Task Force Op Center. The black exterior stood against the sky like some looming dark being.  
  
"That's pretty unclear right now." Three times was enough for one lifetime. She sighed heavily.  
  
Silence coated them once again. Sydney sank into her thoughts and finally realized that there was a reason why she and Vaughn were brought back together. It had to be fate or something like that. Things like that didn't just happen. There *had* to be something or someone behind that but that was a whole other thought process in itself. Next on her thought agenda, Vaughn would get through the death of this loved one. She couldn't get over that someone so close had died but she had a feeling that he would rise above this. Okay, what was next? She sighed heavily and closed her eyes as her brain wracked for the needed answers.  
  
Weiss spoke up again after a few more minute of silence. His voice sounded raspy and grave, "It was pretty tough on everyone.Mike's leaving. I lost my best friend for a while. I mean, grant it, I was with him more than ever but he was different. He was quiet and lost. I never could put my finger on it. It's like he ran out of life. I think he lost his will the day he found out that the only treatment was in New York."  
  
Sydney nodded in agreement and let silence endure for a long time. "All those messages I got, I honestly thought he was drunk all of those times. He sounded so out of it and disconnected with reality. He kept proclaiming how much he loved me and how he still wanted us to be together. I just assumed it was the booze talking. Why didn't I see this coming? I'm trained in this type of stuff and yet, I still couldn't see that he was dying in front of my eyes? He had to have been diagnosed before he left."  
  
"He was diagnosed," he paused as calculated the time quickly in his head, "eighteen months ago."  
  
"So he knew he was sick for eight months and didn't tell me?" She cried, out of anger.  
  
"He didn't want you to worry. You were busy with all of your assignments and tracking down Sloane, your mother, and Sark were your priority. He didn't want you to worry."  
  
She honestly didn't have the energy to follow through with the logical response about how he didn't have to worry..that she would have taken on the extra weight of his worries and manage to come out the other side. There was a long list of explanations but she suddenly found her brain pushing into overload with all of the surges of information and the emotional peaks of the day.  
  
Weiss pressed further, "Well, I know that Michael never stopped loving you. Every single day, he talked about how much he loved you." Weiss said soberly and started to pull into the parking lot. Reaching across the passenger seat, he grabbed his cell phone, "Hey, it's Agent Eric Weiss. I'm going to need a wheelchair...uh-huh...sure..lot 4? Okay." And he promptly hung up.  
  
Sydney focused on the passing cement barricades that flew past her black tinted window. Time had really gone fast. She didn't' realize how long and hard she had gone into her memory bank. Those were cold and lonely journeys she took sometimes when she felt really down and out. Her memory was so extensively filled with heartache and pain that it sometimes hurt less to be shot I the shoulder. She felt her heart beat faster in her chest and her palms get sweatier than before. She tried so hard to snap out of this nervous state that threatened to destroy her at that very moment. The car stopped near the nearest entrance. The car was thrown into park and promptly turned off. "You better wake him up."  
  
Sydney smiled a little reply and leaned forward into her lap, brushing her lips against his forehead, "Sweetie." she cooed softly, "you gotta wake up." Her lips brushed further down and lightly touched his lips. G-d, she missed waking him up like this. Every morning for six months, they would awake at 5:30 and go for their morning run together. Being home by 6:15, at the latest, she would take her shower first, kiss him in transit as he went to take his shower, put up a fresh pot of coffee, start her morning routine of hair and make-up and by 7, sit down for breakfast with him. It was a nice little routine she had gotten used to and feeling that brush of their lips after nearly a year, she felt all those old emotions of love overpower her. "C'mon, sweetie, you gotta wake up. We're here."  
  
His eyes fluttered open and gleamed back into hers, "Hi." He managed to speak, hearing how hoarse his voice sounded.  
  
"Hey." She grinned back and kissed him the cheek gingerly. "C'mon, we're here." She gently started to entice him to sit up and start to move out of the car. He moved slowly and still obviously felt ill.  
  
"Where's here?" His voice sounded so groggy and his eyes fluttered against the light. He sat up and looked around the cement parking garage rather confused. He stretched and fixed himself, clearing his throat as he looked at her expectantly.  
  
"We're at the Joint Op Center." She replied soberly and held onto the door as Weiss wheeled into a narrow parking spot.  
  
"Okay kiddies, we're here!" The driver managed to smile and promptly jumped from the car.  
  
A swarm of agents that looked all of twelve rushed towards the car. In all honesty, there were probably about four agents who were in the early twenties. It was an absolute blur after that. Agents were opening doors and escorting Weiss, Sydney, and Vaughn in all different directions. The three agents didn't know where to turn first and were rushed with great speed towards the heart of the Ops center. Sydney trotted at his side as Vaughn was pushed in a wheelchair by a young looking female agent. They didn't dare speak to each other or touch each other. The only physical contact they had was in the elevator. As the steady car rose countless flights, Sydney's hand brushed over Vaughn and gripped it tightly. He struggled with a severe case of fatigue, brought on by the sleeping pill.  
  
Vaughn swallowed down hard and desperately reached for some comfort. He hadn't been there in such a long time and it seemed so unnatural for him to be there at that particular moment in time.  
  
The elevator stopped and before them was a familiar sight to all. There was the hallway that Vaughn had chased Sydney down after he was cured from Irinia's illness. Vaughn swallowed hard as all the memories came back to him in the worst way. A knot swelled in his throat and he desperately tried to avoid his emotions and concentrate on what was going on.  
  
Sydney strode proudly beside him, putting on the typical Bristow air. She starred straight ahead, ignoring the blank stares of those who passed her. She had grown into a legend and people were honored to work with her. She didn't know it, though. All she wanted was to get her job done, survive to end of the day, and get the guy in the end. The latter part was the most important part. She internally bit down hard on her lip to keep her composure. Her heels snapped along the black tiles beneath her. Her eyes were focused on whatever was in front of. Finally, after much walking and turning corners, they reached the center. There were two very serious looking men, obviously ready to jump down the other's throat at a moment notice.  
  
"Dad!" Sydney called from across the room and watched the more robust of the two men turn around to face her.  
  
"Sydney." He walked towards her and then at Vaughn, "Mr. Vaughn, how are you feeling?"  
  
He struggled to sit up a little higher, "I'm better, sir." His voice was still groggy from sleep but he attempted to sound more confident. Jack turned to walk away, satisfied with that answer when Vaughn called out, "What was I called in for?"  
  
He sighed heavily and looked at Sydney and Weiss, "Why don't we all sit down?" He motioned to the desk and found a sturdy looking chair nearby. He looked the man over that had broken his daughter's heart. What was so wonderful about him that made Sydney fall in love with him? He was good looking, Jack would grant him that, but he was weak at heart and often let his heart rule his head. He was just like his father in so many ways. Jack's eyes narrowed down as he let his body recline.  
  
"Good idea." Weiss piped up and found a nearby desk chair. He collapsed into it full heartedly and smiled at the comfort of his familiar seat. Sydney propped herself on the desk and starred down at her crossed ankles. She knew what was coming and braced herself for the sudden impact. She couldn't bring herself to watch the expression on Vaughn's face.  
  
"What's going on?" Vaughn asked again. He looked to Sydney, who refused to return gaze, "Sydney?" She bit her lip and turned towards her father, almost pretending not to hear. "Jack, what's going on?"  
  
Director Kendal had noticed the little gathering nearby and walked over, looking very overpowering and intimidating as he stood over them. His face was drawn and pale as he looked seriously at Vaughn. Was there a hint of compassion in his eyes? "Agent Vaughn, nice to you see you again."  
  
Vaughn was slightly taken aback by this and didn't exactly know what to say. Kendal was actually being nice to him, "Likewise, sir." He paused slightly to catch his breath that started to ache in his chest, "Why did you insist that I come in?"  
  
Jack and Kendal both shared worried look but Jack spoke first, "Mr. Vaughn, you, Sydney, and Agent Weiss are going to be leaving on a mission to Fleury, France in an hour. The plane is loaded and you'll receive op tech onboard. There will be two combined missions to this. For the first one, Mr. Weiss will be on point and you, Mr. Vaughn, will be in the field with Sydney." The trademark Bristow stare took over, "This is going to be a difficult mission, considering that you've been out of the field for quite sometime..The piggy back mission, Mr. Vaughn, you will have Sydney on a comm. link. This is going to one of the most difficult missions for you, Mr. Vaughn." He let his voice trail off, uncharacteristically as he thought of the ramifications of these next few words. "But you must go."  
  
Vaughn didn't know what to do and felt completely flustered, "Why?" He felt his heart begin to pound and his body start to sweat. He wished he was well enough to run out of that room faster than any man alive. Something in the pit of his stomach said something was undeniably wrong. He reached up and groped for Sydney's hand. She offered it and clutched his tightly, feeling the pain he felt surge through her body. She ignored the looks she got from both of her superiors. All of those solutions she had come to completely went out the window.  
  
Jack sighed and looked at his daughter out of desperation. Taking a deep breath again, he spoke softly, "A relative of yours has been killed and we think it has something to do with one of your connections."  
  
A semi-truck hit him at full force and he felt like someone had punched him in the stomach hard. He never wanted his job to affect anyone else's life but his own. Feeling tears rush towards his eyes, he managed to gasp, "Anyone but my mother. Please tell me it's *not* my mother." 


	7. Ties That Bind

This is one of those in between chapters. There's important information but the real twist and turns start next chapter.  
  
A semi-truck hit him at full force and he felt like someone had punched him in the stomach hard. He never wanted his job to affect anyone else's life but his own. Feeling tears rush towards his eyes, he managed to gasp, "Anyone but my mother. Please tell me it's *not* my mother."  
  
Jack sighed and let his eyes fall to the floor. He studied a small crack growing out of one of the black tiles. The aged crack mirrored the cracks forming along his brow and face. Age had never shown so much on the veteran's face. He knew the words he was going to say was going to be so terrible. Similar words had been said to him numerous years ago. This was the worse possible news that could ever be told. They would burn him like fire and engulf his entire entity. They would be echoed in his head until he reached his own deathbed. How do you tell a man something like this? Jack felt the collar around his neck grow tight and sweat pool beneath his chin. He couldn't bring himself to look up or to tell the horrible news. "I'm so sorry." He managed to utter softly.  
  
Vaughn couldn't even talk. There was no thought at all. He just felt his body shut down and his heart start to pound loudly in his chest, "What? No. No." He had never felt so numb in his life. At first, he couldn't even cry, "Are you sure?" His emerald eyes held pain from over twenty years ago.  
  
Jack managed to bring himself to look at Vaughn and nodded curtly, "I'm afraid so."  
  
His mind started to race. Nothing was sacred anymore. This was absolutely impossible. His mother was immortal. She was the strongest creature known to man and now she-she was dead? "What? How?"  
  
Jack started to answer but as he recalled the pictures from the crime scene, he promptly decided against it. He saw flashbacks of the blood and remains of a wonderful woman, slaughtered like some sort of animal in her own home.  
  
The younger agent was beside himself with grief. His heart burned with the emptiness of being orphaned at thirty. Thank G-d he was sitting down when he heard the news or else his body would have collapsed even further. He felt his heart had been ripped out and stomped out. This was the worst pain in the world. He desperately wanted too run from the room and hide form the horrible turmoil that had now engulfed him.  
  
His hand reached up towards his chest and gripped the metals tightly as though they could bring his mother back to him. The cold gold of Saint Michael and Saint George quickly grew warm from his overwhelming body heat. His body shook wildly as he attempted to catch his breath. Each inhalation pained him more than the last. This was the type of pain that only went away with an ice cold drink followed by an even colder shower. He had never felt so alone. He felt like no one could soothe away this..this aching void that suddenly filled his heart. His mother, his best friend, had been taken from him. And to make it that much worse, she had been taken from him by the same thing that he took his father. He saw images, visions of being told of his father's death and felt the imprints of new memories being made.  
  
fLaShBaCk OvEr TwEnTy YeArS  
  
sAinTa BaRbArA, CaLiFoRnIa  
  
His mother held his baby sister, the baby of the three Vaughn children, in her arms, while he stood off by the doorway, playing with a new toy. He didn't really know what was going on. His oldest sister, Isabelle had been playing with him. She was a beautiful nine and a half year old (eighteen months older than Vaughn) with long blonde curly hair and dark brown eyes, a gift from her father. Izzy, as she was known to Vaughn and two year old Claire and Vaughn had been playing checkers or something like that.  
  
A CIA agent had appeared at the door. He had dark hair, cut close to his scalp and wore a black three pieces suit. His voice was so soft and soothing but his words were like glass. He spoke to his mother about what had happened and that his father, away on a "business trip", had been identify. His body was being transferred from Russia, where it had been discovered. Not William Vaughn, just his body. Vaughn remembered with agony the look on his mother's face and the CIA agent, who his later found out was named Nick Galloway, rushing forward, taking his younger sister in his arm and comforting his mother as she collapsed down to the ground.  
  
Izzy and Vaughn stood up and immediately, Izzy gripped Vaughn's shoulder hard in fear. After his mother had melted down to the ground, another agent came into the house and took them aside. He wore a similar suit and as he reached him, put his hands on his hips, pushing his coat jacket aside, revealing the holster attached tightly to his waist. It was the first time either child had ever seen a gun.  
  
"Hiya, guys. You are Michael Vaughn, right? And Isabelle?"  
  
"Yeah, I am." 8 year old Vaughn had replied.  
  
"Yes, sir." Izzy replied, straightening up a little more. She was so mature and was a born ballet dancer, aspiring to dance in a company one day.  
  
"Well, my name is James Calvi."  
  
"Hello, Mr. Calvi." Respect was drilled into them almost on a daily basis by their father  
  
"Call me Jim." The agent sat down on his knees and placed his hand on Vaughn's shoulder.  
  
"Jim, what's going on? Why is maman crying?" Izzy jumped in and asked, receiving a shocked look from Vaughn.  
  
"Well, you know how you're father hasn't been home for a long time?"  
  
"Five and a half weeks." Little Vaughn recited.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And?" Isabelle jumped in, not sure how to react. She kept her tone steady, knowing in her heart that she had to be strong for her brother.  
  
Jim cleared his throat uncomfortably and his eyes bounced around the house, "Well, I'm sorry to have to tell you this but-"  
  
"My father's dead isn't he?" Vaughn always thought quickly. "He was never in New York. He was working."  
  
Izzy took a small step back in horror as the pieces fell into place at the same time.  
  
"I'm so sorry." Jim responded. He leaned forward and hugged him tightly as Vaughn let the tears stream down his face. Isabelle was the next to be embraced. Things had changed so quickly. He let go of Jim and turned to Izzy. She was sobbing just as hard and seeing her cry, little Vaughn started to as well. Jim hugged him once more and walked over to Felicity. Isabelle and Little Vaughn followed suit. Their mother had collapsed to the ground and was now sobbing inconsolably  
  
"Ah mes enfants. Je suis desolee. Votre papa, il etait un homme marvelous." She managed to choke out and reached out for her children. "Oh my children!" She started to wail in her new tongue, "I am so sorry. Your father! Your father was such a wonderful man!"  
  
"We know maman. We know." Isabelle had responded, taking Vaughn into her arms and then collapsing into their mother's.  
  
"We're gonna be okay. We're gonna be okay." Vaughn said over and over again, feeling the tears cascade over his face.  
  
Felicity straightened up and sniffled slightly. Her lips grazed each of her foreheads as she gave them a quick squeeze, "Come, come." She let go of her crying children and stood up, concentrating on pressing the wrinkles out of her floral skirt. Feeling satisfied with herself, she walked over to the two agents who were congregating in the corner. "So, where do we go from here?" Her accent was heavier than ever. Fleury seemed so far away at that moment but little France was in her living room. "Where do I go? What is to become of my husband? What happens now, with me and my children? Please, my children are the most important thing right now. Do you have someone my children can talk to?" She always thought of her children first.  
  
EnD fLaShBaCk  
  
"What about my sisters?" Vaughn finally managed to gasp, feeling the weight of the world and the tumor in his chest. "Where are they?" The Vaughn children were as close as they could be. There were so many things that had bonded the Vaughn family together. The death of their father brought them closer than anyone could imagine. Felicity was forced to work two jobs, just so the family could make ends meet. Vaughn and Isabelle quickly became the parent figure in little Claire's life. There were countless dinners that were absent of a mother but any stranger peering through the windows would not think that. Isabelle cooked traditional French meals as Vaughn sat at the head of the table. They discussed their days and seemed perfectly normal. The age gaps meant nothing.  
  
"They've already been flown to France and are waiting for you. Your plane leaves whenever you're ready." Jack spoke softly and evenly.  
  
"Oh G-d. Oh G-d." He kept murmuring over and over again. He held his chest tightly and rocked back in forth. Finally after about five minutes, he leaned back into his wheelchair and stared off. It was like he had completely shut down. His tongue felt like it had swollen and he couldn't have spoken even if he tried. He looked at Sydney finally, "That's why on the phone- about identifying body. It was my mother's body. Oh G-d, I have to id her body?"  
  
Jack cut in, eager to soothe this obvious pain that this was causing, "No. Your oldest sister-"  
  
"Isabelle."  
  
"Yes, Isabelle has already completed that task." Jack responded soberly.  
  
Vaughn closed his eyes as he tried to picture his beautiful older sister seeing his even more beautiful mother's body. Not her- just her body. Felicity Marie Vaughn was dead. He sunk further into his chair and hide his face in his hand. This wasn't happening.  
  
Sydney sat there absolutely helpless. She wanted to hold him so tightly in her arms and kiss away his pain. But as she jumped from her perch, her father abruptly put his arm out. "Let him be." He mouthed. Sydney returned, with her lips slightly puckered in both defeat and sympathy. She remembered the pain of the losing a mother. It was quite possibly the worst pain that she had ever experienced, especially at such a young age. She felt her eyes pool with tears and sympathy pains started for the second time that day. This had to be the worst day. They were definitely star-crossed lovers. So many things had gone wrong while they were together. Things dated back years and always, they managed to overcome it but this time, she didn't know if they could do it.  
  
Ultimately, she defied her father and lunged towards Vaughn, gripping him tightly as he collapsed into shoulder. She felt his rapid gasps of air warm her shoulder. She reached up and stroked his hair, "Shh. It's okay. We'll get through this. I know. I know, I'm so sorry." She started to tear up but forced the emotions back down her throat, knowing that she could put these thoughts away.  
  
Her heart started to pound and ache all at the same time. The thoughts of losing her mother came flooding back but could only imagine that this pain would be a thousand times worse. They stayed like that for a long moment, both of them wishing that the world would stop for a few minutes and let them grieve.  
  
"Agent Bristow." An unwanted voice cut into the private moment she and Vaughn were sharing.  
  
"What?" Sydney managed to speak, hovering over Vaughn. She had crouched down on the side of the wheelchair, twisting at an uncomfortable angle to try pacify him.  
  
"The plane's ready to board. You need to get going. You, Agent Vaughn, and Agent Weiss." Kendall spoke with his trademark cold voice and walked away.  
  
Sydney stood up straight and wiped the imaginary tears from her face, "Let's get you on that plane and we'll sort things out." She silently instructed Weiss and her father to help aid them on the plane, snapping into business mode, "We'll work this out on the plane, sweetie. It's a long ride and I've got all the time you need." Weiss stood up, equally as shocked and started to wheel Vaughn towards the airstrip. Sydney moved to follow suit but Jack promptly stopped her.  
  
"What?" She asked, letting a frustrated sigh escape her lips.  
  
"I need to go over the mission specs with you before you get on that plane. Things are a lot more complicated than they may seem." Jack hushed his voice and ushered his daughter over to a less public corner. To make things more ironic, it was the so called "flirting corner." She followed willingly, feeling the fear bubble over in her mind once again.  
  
"What could possibly be so difficult that I can't learn it on the plane?" As soon as the words escaped her mouth, she regretted it. The little reminders of a mother's funeral, an orphaned adult with cancer, two missions piggy-backed on top of each other came soaring back. The information was getting much too difficult to deal with at the moment. Her heart was pounding so loudly that she thought the gods could hear her pain.  
  
"Where would you like me to start?" Jack asked sarcastically.  
  
"Wherever you want." She quickly matched his tone and placed her hands on her hips as he sat down on a nearby desk.  
  
Might as well get the gruesome details over with first. "You're going to have to draw blood from Vaughn every week and have Weiss send it to our French lab. The chemotherapy is almost impossible to go under while you're undergoing this mission, so we have to monitor him closely." He watched his daughter make a mental note of this.  
  
Pushing her emotions aside, she started to make headway and focus on her work. "The supplies will be at the safe house?"  
  
"You won't be staying at a safe house."  
  
"What?" Sydney couldn't believe her ears, "Then where are we staying?"  
  
"You'll be staying at the Vaughn estate for the first half of the mission and you won't be staying over for the other part." Not giving her time to jump in again, Jack continued, "Next. Vaughn's mother's funeral is going to be a difficult ordeal for you to handle. You have repressed memories about your mother's and this is going to trigger many of them. I want you to be prepared for an emotional roller coaster." Sydney face twisted in surprise. She didn't remember many things about her mother's funeral but always attributed it to her age. Never once did she think that she had repressed memories. "The mission are going to be difficult. We have two leads on who killed Felicity Vaughn. One is in India, the other in Russia. You'll be going to Russia first to meet with my contacts and more than likely, they'll give you nothing."  
  
"Then why I am going?" the stubborn side of her began to show through.  
  
Jack sighed out of frustration. Ever since Sydney was little, she had a habit of wanting to know the answers to all of her questions five minutes ago, "I'm sending you because you are one of the most capable agents when it comes to Russian intelligence."  
  
Sydney felt her face grow hot from the unexpected compliment from her father. Jack Bristow complimented no one. Absolutely no one.  
  
"And besides," Jack continued, hushing his voice slightly, "I know that you have personal stake in this." He swallowed hard as he tried to internalize the image of Sydney rushing to Vaughn's side. "The second mission, well that one is much more difficult. You'll have to infiltrate a dance club and find a microchip. On this chip, there is the blueprints for the latest counter-intelligence group. They are based out of Russia, again, but they keep their information scattered throughout Europe and Asia. We already have the manual but the microchip will fill in the blanks. More than likely, this will lead to the capture of Felicity Vaughn's killer. We have information that supports the theory that this new group, a branch of the Triad, is behind her murder." Jack sighed and really did not want to release this last piece of information but new it was necessary, "They are a combination of the rogue Triad members and the surviving members of Derevko's operation, led known by Sark."  
  
"Wonderful."  
  
They stood their in awkward silence for a moment. Jack wanted to say things so badly but refrained all the same. The thoughts and images of what happened in the past few hours were extremely difficult to deal with and it made life that much more trying. "You need to be careful."  
  
"I know. I always am." She replied stubbornly, moving again to walk away.  
  
Jack advanced towards her, "Sydney, I mean it. You need to be cautious. Don't do anything foolish. Don't let your emotions get too involved. You've had a habit of doing that lately." His fatherly advice blurred the line between estranged father and wise agent.  
  
Her temper flared like the phoenix, "I cannot believe you just said that to me." She brought her hand up to her head for the second time that day, feeling a migraine beginning to swell beneath her aching fingertips. "I *have* to go." She turned around, not letting her father argue with her any further. It would just lead to more frustration and resentment on both sides of the argument. Jack had become overprotected since Vaughn's absence and declared each of her decisions foolhardy and her actions unnecessary risks.  
  
"Sydney!" He called after her, not having the strength to rise to his feet. "Don't you walk away from me!"  
  
"Watch me!" Sydney barked underneath her breath. She marched away, fully aware of her father's hateful glare. No one could exactly pinpoint what happened between the veteran agent and his daughter. It was apparent that their relationship was becoming strained again. There was an unsettling feeling in the air that attempted to smoother any unknowing passerby. She walked away, swinging her hips with the typical Bristow stride that had gotten her into trouble from time to time. Nothing mattered anymore. The Bitch Bristow was back until everything had settled again. What she wouldn't give for a long hot bath with a big tub of Ben and Jerry's chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream.  
  
She whipped past the agents milling around. She ignored the blatant stares and the whispers *That's Sydney Bristow* *She's the one I was telling you about* * Oh my G-d, did you hear that Agent Vaughn is back?* *She's not doing well. I heard she started sleeping around or at least that's why I heard from Peter from Op Tech.* She glared straight ahead and opted for the quieter stairs instead of the elevator. They were as bleak as they come. Gray walls, gray stairs, gray railings. She plowed down a few flights, needing to go a total of eight and making about four in about two minutes. She literally flew down, grateful that no one else had taken the aerobic approach at that particular moment. Her feet fell into a rhythmic pattern that started to mirror her heartbeat. Her mind was racing and went completely blank. There were no thoughts at all until..Finally, after reaching the halfway point of her descent, she stopped dead. It was either out of exhaustion or emotions. Why did emotions play such a big part in life? Why couldn't have she been a robot with no emotions! Anyway, she stopped dead and felt a gust of air kick behind her. It was more than likely her imagination but her stop seemed so powerful that she sat down on the step in a large heap. She just sat and starred. No tears were bothered with and for the first time that day, she allowed her thoughts to be processed.  
  
Her body started to reek with the stench of disappointment and dishearted dreams. Regrets flooded her and made every moment harder. There were moments like this that all she wanted to do was make it stop. Suicide wasn't an option but it would be such an easy way out! Just like those pills were. She wanted to laugh. Weiss actually bought her story. He honestly thought she hadn't taken them. He could be so naïve. Her tongue danced around her mouth as she remembered the bitter taste of the little pink pills setting on the tip of her tongue. A remembrance of the water splashing around her mouth as it soothed away all of her pain. Her mind went blissfully numb after that. She climbed into bed and for eight wonderful hours, she didn't feel a thing. Not a blessed thing.  
  
G-d, how she wished for one of those pills again. She wasn't a drug addict or something like that. She just used those pills for an escape every once and a while. Everyone needs an escape every once and a while, right? She desired that tart taste on the tip of her tongue and numbness that quickly followed. That was the best week of her life. But like all good things, that quickly came to an end. She ran out of pills.  
  
She wet her lips and felt the hard cement beneath her. She buried her head in her hands. This wasn't fair. This sucked, to be blunt about it. Let's review, shall we? The love of her life left her suddenly nearly a year ago and she cut him out of her life. And as soon as she was over him and willingly to accept her single status, phone calls start to arrive and after nearly a week, she discovered that he had life threatening cancer that was resistant to cancer. In that same day, she saw him again and he was practically dying. To make matters that much worse, his mother was brutally murdered by the associate that worked with her mother, Irinia Derevko. But not only was Felicity Vaughn murdered, the only way she was identified wasn't by her body. It was by her dental records. It was the same way her ill fated husband was identified.  
  
She laughed ruefully at all of the information, "This is all a joke. This is a dream. This is all a very sick dream. I am going to wake up and not only am I going to be in my bedroom, but Vaughn, a healthy Vaughn, is going to by lying next to me." She tried to convince herself. Who the hell was she kidding. She was so frustrated that she didn't even know what to do with herself She didn't know whether to cry and breakdown or to throw something or to yell at someone. She was exhausted from the day's events and was even more exhausted of being a good agent. She wished she didn't have to do everything right and suddenly wanted to be less capable. Her skin had that tight feeling again. She wriggled around uncomfortably. Her hands ran across her face as she groaned. She just wanted to be normal for a few hours.  
  
She finally just yelled.  
  
Loud.  
  
It let all the frustration out and echoed throughout the cement stairwell.  
  
She didn't yell anything in particular. It was just a good old fashioned yell from the pit of her stomach.  
  
And she did it again.  
  
And again.  
  
And one more time.  
  
Her body straightened up and she got to her feet. The mud brown globes bounced around the stairwell, praying that now one else had heard her. Her lips were pursed into a straight line and she suddenly felt better about herself. All she needed to do was let out a little steam, literally. Giving her body one last shake to get all of the nervous energy out, she flew down the rest of the steps, practically running down to the airstrip.  
  
I'm sorry! I know you're all probably yelling at your computers right now! Yes, I did kill off Vaughn's mother and Sydney looks like a drug addict (?) but hey, you've just begun on the emotional roller coaster I'm prepared to take you on.  
  
Chapter Seven: I'm gonna fly away  
  
Sydney and Vaughn confront their pasts, presents, and futures en route to Fleury.  
  
Chapter Eight: No Bond Like Ours  
  
Vaughn reconnects with his sisters. 


	8. Cry A Litte

Thank you so much for everyone who reviewed! I love and appreciate them! I'm so sorry for the delay but I haven't been able to access the internet in a while, so! I hope you aren't disappointed in this chapter! This is my version of a song fic chapter...they don't happen that often if you don't like them but let me know honestly what you think!  
  
I don't own Faith Hill's or Mandy Moore's Cry (these are the songs that the story are based on) or Another Suit Case in Another Hall from the Broadway musical "Evita."  
  
"Let's get you down to the medical services." Weiss murmured softly as Vaughn was wheeled away. Fear and shock was setting in on behalf of both parties. But for some reason, Weiss was keeping his emotions wonderfully in check. His brain seemed to focus on how much this must be aching for Vaughn right now, how much pain he must be going through. They were the same age but at that moment, every second of their existence showed on Vaughn's face. Thirty five years of headache was suddenly etched on the incapacitated agent. "We'll get you set up with some nice fluids, get a vile of that blood of yours and call it a day. We'll sit on the plane, you'll relax with Sydney and be all lovey dovey." Weiss attempted to soothe the pain and anguish out of Vaughn.  
  
And failed, miserably.  
  
"Eric-" Vaughn started to say, rather tearfully, "we have...we have to find out who killed my mother." Revenge and anger seeped through his voice as he gripped the side of his wheelchair hard. "I just found my father's killer and now I have to spend another 27 years looking for my mother's? No. That's not going to happen." His voice had never dropped this low and so soaked with hatred. "And I swear to G-d, if it's Sark or anyone related, I will personally kill them." He paused for a quick painful inhale, "I swear."  
  
"Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Let's get you to Fleury first and get through everything. Then, we'll go onto killers and murderers. Okay?" Weiss had started a quick jog to keep up with the wheelchair.  
  
Vaughn rolled his eyes, "Yeah, okay." Life started to return to him slowly. But instead of the wonderful optimist life that had filled him for so many years, anger and bitterness had returned. His eyes burned with flames that threatened to engulf him, heart, body, and soul.  
  
Call in three months time and I'll be fine I know  
  
Well maybe not that fine, but I'll survive anyhow  
  
I won't recall the names and places of each sad occasion  
  
But that's no consolation--here and now  
  
So what happens now?  
  
Silence started to creep between the three agents. (Vaughn, Weiss, and Agent Robert Cortez, the agent wheeling the wheelchair.) It was a deafening silence that pounded in Vaughn's ears and made him cringe and wish he could escape. To make matters that much worse, the effects from the chemo started to come back. Nausea started to come in waves and blur his eyesight. Finally, he gave into the pain and shut his eyes, covered by the arch of his hand.  
  
"Are you alright, sir?" Agent Cortez spoke up, his voice quavering out of nervousness.  
  
"I'm fine!" Vaughn barked, not wanting to talk to anyone. All he wanted was to crawl back into bed and stay there for an exceptionally long time.  
  
Weiss shot Cortez a silencing look. The rookie agent got the hint in the worst way. He straightened up and moved faster through the corridors.  
  
Finally, after what seemed like miles and miles of black tiles and harsh overhead lighting, they reached medical services. Agents with a specialty in medicine mulled around like ants near a picnic. They all seemed like they had somewhere more important to be and they needed to be there five minutes ago. White coats surrounded the black clad agents.  
  
"Are you Michael Vaughn?" One woman approached the wheelchair, glancing up from her chart that she kept glancing back and forth to.  
  
"Yes." Vaughn managed to choke out, glaring at the spunky looking woman with pin straight red hair and hazel eyes. She was tall but probably shorter than Sydney. She was rather thin and obviously had a background in dance. Each movement was fluid and rather musical.  
  
"Ah, Agent Vaughn, I'm Doctor Amelia Masci. I'll be attending to you for the time being." She paused slightly, as if to read what his face but was unable to do so. "So, let's get you over here. We'll get you some IV saline solution and get you rehydrated. I understand-" she flipped open the chart, "that you're undergoing intense chemotherapy for a stage three cancerous mass in your left lung. Is that correct?" Her eyes, hidden by black glasses, bounced back and forth between the black scribbled writing on the page to Vaughn's emerald colored eyes.  
  
"Unfortunately, yes." Vaughn relinquished and sank further into the chair, as if defeated by announcing it in his workplace. "This is my second round of chemo."  
  
The woman pulled a pen from her pocket and scribbled something down, "O-kay." Using the bottom part of her jaw, she clicked the pen closed and thrusted it back into her pocket. She turned her back on Vaughn for a moment and scanned the large room, looking for a place for them to rest for a moment.  
  
"Another IV?" Vaughn sighed underneath his breath. He looked at his arms, partially bare and littered with what looked like track marks. "I don't think I have enough veins for it."  
  
"Yes, yes." She shook him off and continued her quest for a place to store him. "Ah-ha!" She cried triumphantly, "Let's go over here, shall we?" She quickly marched, letting her hips sway with each step towards a distant corner on the other end of the room. "We'll give you some privacy while we get you back to normal. You need to leave for Fleury now, correct? You are being sent on a mission?" She walked, glancing back every now and then. "Please, correct me if I'm wrong."  
  
Vaughn sighed, "No, unfortunately, you're right again." His voice was without its normal melody and beautiful tone. A flat, bored tone took over instead.  
  
They reached the desire corner, complete with a heart monitor, ventilator, crash cart and other supplies straight out of ER. "Well, I wish you all the luck in the world."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
She motioned towards a bed, sitting in the corner, "Do you think you can hop up there for me?"  
  
"I have cancer. I'm not a cripple." Vaughn spat and got out of the chair, his legs absolutely shaking. He moved, baby step by baby step to the bed and collapsed down onto it. "Can we get this over with?"  
  
"Hold your horses, buddy." Weiss tried to pacify him and walked over to the opposite end of the white bed.  
  
"Would you like me to stay?" Cortez spoke up, afraid of what Vaughn was going to snap in his direction.  
  
"We'll only be a moment." The woman responded, finding a stool nearby and sitting down, bring herself towards Vaughn as he reclined back, offering the underside of his arm towards the doctor. She grabbed an IV introducer, "I'm sorry. This may prick."  
  
"I'm used to pain."  
  
Time and time again I've said that I don't care  
  
That I'm immune to gloom, that I'm hard through  
  
and through  
  
But every time it matters all my words desert me  
  
So anyone can hurt me--and they do  
  
So what happens now?  
  
She started to prick at the vein and slid the IV successfully into his arm, hooking it up to a nearby stand with two bags of clear, water-like fluid. "We'll keep you on fluids until you land. You're horribly dehydrated."  
  
"Well, Doctor Masci, am I finished?" He went to move his legs over to the side to get up.  
  
She grimaced slightly, "No, Mr. Vaughn. I'm afraid that we still have a few more things to go over."  
  
Vaughn rolled his eyes again and studied the dripping IV. "What is it?"  
  
She crossed her legs and wrists and pressed her lips together rather tightly, "We have to discuss your regime while you're away." She paused slightly, "As you know, you're going to be missing your chemo treatments, so we're going to have someone..I believe it's-" She glanced at the chart, "Agent Weiss?"  
  
Weiss snapped alive, "Yes."  
  
Amelia smiled up at him flirtatiously and looked back at Vaughn, "Agent Weiss is going to take blood from you once and week and send it to one of our labs. They'll send me the results and send copies to your doctor.." She started to flip through the chart looking for a name, her lips slightly puckered in defeat.  
  
"Doctor Christopher Marshall." Vaughn filled in the gaps, sounding completely bored.  
  
"Yes, Doctor Marshall and he'll be kept notified of your on-going condition. Now, I believe that you are in perfectly good hands with Agent Weiss but if you need anything-anything at all, I am field trained and would more than willingly come and help you in any means possible." Amelia smiled and reached for his hand, "How are you doing, Mr. Vaughn? I know you're about to leave for a mission but I need to know how you're feeling..emotionally." Her eyes no longer had the look of a doctor but that of a woman, desperate for some attention. The flirt in her began to surface and the breakup with her boyfriend of a few years started to show in her bright yet pale complexion.  
  
Vaughn retracted his hand and met her warm gray eyes with the coldness of the emerald eyes, "I'm fine or as well as can be expected." He cleared his throat loudly and turned to Weiss, who looked equally as uncomfortable.  
  
"We need to be getting to the plane." Weiss smiled as Vaughn started to get out of the bed and moved towards the still standing wheelchair and looked towards Amelia, "Doctor Masci or may I call you Amelia?"  
  
"Amelia's fine." She stood up and straightened her coat out slightly, "What can I help you with, Agent Weiss? Do you need help with hypodermic technique or how to handle blood or what?" She was so kind and so gentle and so desperate that she would have hit on Kendal if he was single and she was given the chance.  
  
"Eric, please." Weiss put his hand as to put her at ease. "I just have one small question for you, if you don't mind."  
  
"Of course not." Amelia motioned to an uninhabited corner of the room, "What is it?" Her eyes were full of eagerness and utmost concern.  
  
"I was wondering, if that is you're not too preoccupied with work, if you would consider going out with me upon my arrival?"  
  
She started to gush, "I am flattered, Eric but-but I just got out of a terrible breakup with my boyfriend and I'm really not interested in pursuing a relationship right now." Translation; Ew no! The sick one's my type! Not you!  
  
"But you were flirting with me when I'm going out with someone?" piped up Vaughn, settling into his chair. He was bitter, there was no doubt.  
  
She stammered slightly and felt the scarlet color rise in her cheeks, "Don't you need to be getting to your plane?"  
  
"Uh-huh." Replied the rejected agent.  
  
"C'mon man." Vaughn grumbled and wanted to escape this madness.  
  
fLaShFoRwArD  
  
SoMeWhErE oVeR tHe StAtEs  
  
Sydney pushed aside the heavy black folder full of briefing materials and pinched the bridge of her nose slightly with one hand. She had just taken in too much information and now her brain physically ached from it. They had been flying for a few hours now and had read all of her materials at least three times and each time, they made less sense than the last.  
  
"Who are you going to be?" Vaughn asked, talking for the first time since the Amelia ordeal. His brow had been knitted in a perpetual state of wrinkles. Those beautiful green spheres held more pain than most people experienced in a lifetime.  
  
"Rifka Katerkanrisant and then someone I don't remember." She laughed slightly and moved towards his seat on the plane. He had been positioned himself towards the rear of the small plane on an aisle seat with the IV bag hanging and swaying overhead. His lips had stayed immobile since he reached the plane and preferred to sit there and watch her. He tried to memorize every curve of her face, every wrinkle whenever she read something she didn't care for, every movement. Her body, now exhausted, collapsed into the seat next to him, near the window. "How are you feeling?" She reached for his hand and held it tightly in her own. "Your hands are so cold!"  
  
His green eyes were suddenly alive with vivid memories running through them. "Remember when you injected adrenaline into my heart?"  
  
Sydney nodded her head gravely at the remembrance of Vaughn lying on that make shift hospital table, almost dead to the world, with assassins at her heels. She remembered the feeling of the syringe in her hand and the pressure of his body hitting the needle.  
  
"That was like a day at the beach compared to this." His voice had grown hoarse again and his body ached with every fiber of his being. The soft leather beneath him started to stick in certain places and right now, he was just in pain.  
  
"Do you want me to get the morphine?" She asked, gingerly. She was suddenly aware of the IV looming above his head. The IV pumped the fluid into his arm in a sinuous movement. Her thoughts were drifting towards the syringe in the medic bag full of ten milligrams of a wonderful painkiller.  
  
Every heart beat vibrated in his chest. "No.no. I'm okay. It just aches a little bit. That's all this is. A dull aching pain." He paused for a moment and continued, trying to relate himself to her, "My sisters don't know about the cancer."  
  
"What? How could you not have told them?"  
  
He suddenly began to regret bringing up this topic. He pictured his beautiful sisters and in the same instant, he saw their faces red with tears from learning that their dear middle brother had cancer. "How could I tell them? They've been through enough without my problems. Like, my older sister, Isabelle, she had a miscarriage three months ago. Or Claire, she's been bouncing around with old and new boyfriends every other week. Their lives are complicated enough without my problems." He nodded his head, satisfied with their answer.  
  
As a child and into part of her adolescent years, she wanted siblings. She realized that there was a special bond between a sister and a brother or a brother and a brother. It was a bond she knew she would never have.  
  
He started to smile and this worried her greatly, "I can't wait for you to meet Claire. She's so beautiful-so full of life. She has this undying passion for everyday. Up at six and down at eleven everyday. She lives for each moment...she's my mother child. Izzy-Isabelle, she's more quiet. She was always content with working and reading. Maman used to tease her all the time that she would never get married that way. You know, all work and no play?"  
  
"And you were your father's child?" She put two and two together.  
  
"And I was my father's child." He grinned and looked off. "Or at least that's what we all believed." Vaughn got lost in his thoughts for a moment. He had memories of the three Vaughn children playing along the creek near their home and then quickly to their packing to spend their summers in Fleury. He remembered Isabelle going off to college, graduating, getting married, having her first child and losing her second. Claire was the wild child that spent a year touring Europe and going through a man per country. She did got to college, a major in performing arts with a minor in psychology. And all the while, their mother remained absolutely ageless, standing on the porch of their Santa Barbara with the same beaming smile and the bluest eyes in the world. She never had a wrinkle on her brow, except for the ones that appeared when she was worried. Felicity Delorme Vaughn was the most beautiful woman on the planet and she was the only one that Vaughn loved unconditionally. She was his mother and his best friend. And now, he was going to placing her in the earth. "But my father's dead." His voice suddenly turned cold as he continued "And so it my mother." It was time for the news to really hit hard. For the first time since hearing the news, he let tears that sprung to his eyes, drip down his face in silent pilgrimage towards his jaw line.  
  
if i had just one tear  
  
running down your cheek  
  
maybe i could cope  
  
maybe i'd get some sleep.  
  
if i had just one moment at your expense  
  
maybe all my misery would be well spent.  
  
His tears were of a fascinating sort. Their crystal clear saltiness cascaded down along his face but barely allowed his eyes to get red. They started to come at a faster pace and soon, his entire entity shook with the sobs of the hole in his heart. Being older and losing a parent was just as horrible as being young. Why in the world did he feel familiarity with this pain? This had to be worst pain in the world and he felt as though he needed to be loved more than ever. He reached out of his hazy being and touched Sydney on the cheek. Her eyes were swelling over with tears, not for the lost of his mother, but for all that had happened. She felt as though she were sitting next to a stranger that she was in love with. Instinctively, she drew herself towards him but he refused to be touched. He just need to let all of his emotions out.  
  
could you cry a little  
  
lie just a little  
  
pretend that youre feeling a little more pain.  
  
i gave, now im wanting something in return  
  
so cry just a little for me.  
  
It was too much for him to handle. He was absolutely exhausted, he had cancer that had refused to go into remission, he was in pain, his love had finally returned, and his mother had died. The main part of the exhaustion took over for a while. It was that overtired rage that carried him through it all. His raw cry went on for a bit. He would go through the typical stages of tears. A gasping for air that left the rest of his body more vulnerable shook him for a while until the dry sniffs took over. "Oh G- d, Sydney." He finally managed to speak after what seemed like a half hour of sobbing. Absolute dry sobs took over, racking his body until he began to cough violently.  
  
"I wish I could make this go away." She replied, feeling her brow wrinkle.  
  
In places no one would find  
  
All your feelings so deep inside (deep inside)  
  
It was then that I realized  
  
That forever was in your eyes  
  
The moment I saw you cry  
  
"I know." He tried so hard to control himself. Embarrassment started to take over, "I'm sorry."  
  
She wished she could tear herself in two at that moment, "Why are you sorry? You've done nothing wrong!" She threw his arms around him and embraced him tightly.  
  
"I'm sorry I left you. I hurt me so much to leave you." He started to sob harder than before. His body felt like in was going to implode at any moment. This was him hitting rock bottom. It would have been so much easier if he had just become an alcoholic or had had an affair or something. This was horrible. It was absolutely horrid. He started to ramble, conversing back in forth between French and English. "I love you so much, you know that right? I mean, I have never loved anyone else and it hurt me more than anything else. You know I love you, right?"  
  
"I know, baby, I know."  
  
"You have to know that!" He started to cry out desperately. "You have to know that I love you!" He started to sob again into her shoulder.  
  
Sydney started to be absolutely thankful that Weiss had decided to curl up on the back seat and sleep for the long flight. All she wanted was to soothe this pain away and had no clue how. He was hurting in such a way that no one could ever heal his wounds. She clutched him tighter as her brain ran through possible solutions. And there were none. They just sat there for a long while.  
  
"Do you remember what it was like...going to Laura's funeral?" He asked soberly and sitting up and wiping the tears from his eyes. Those beautiful green spheres were clouded over with redness and his face was stained with salty tears. He sat back into his chair and looked around the two seats, as if looking for something to set his eyes on.  
  
She thought about this for a moment and looked as if she was trying to remember a dream. Her nose crinkled up slightly as if she was trying to inhale a faint smell and her eyes squinted as though she was reading extremely small type. She reached how and traced a tear down his face, erasing it near his jaw line. "The only thing I remember is everyone being so sad and I knew-I knew nothing was ever going to be the same again. I remember it was beautiful out. Like the air was crystal clear and everything seemed so happy and safe but my mom wasn't there. And I kept waiting for her to burst out of a room, singing and dancing, like she always did and scoop me into her arms and bustle around the house with me. And she never came. I remember feeling confused and sad and the house suddenly feeling cold and-and-" She stopped as new bits and pieces started to resurface. "I don't remember crying though. I mean, even my father cried but I don't remember crying at all. Maybe it was because of the repression treatments that my father had me undergo, I don't know. I don't remember relatives, friends- I feel like I have amnesia. I guess my dad didn't want it to hurt too too badly. I'm sure as soon as he found out about what my mother was really, he wanted me to forget all most all of her."  
  
Vaughn's brow had wrinkled in puzzlement, "Why did your dad make sure of it?" He swallowed, paused, and then the light bulb went off, "He made sure you had repressed memories so that you would never think about it...and never ask questions." Vaughn pictured little six year old Sydney asking a million and two questions about her mother and talking nonstop. No wonder Jack had opted not for her to remember a thing.  
  
"Exactly but now, seeing all this, may be back memories. I mean, I remember a few sparse details but that was only because of Danny's funeral." She clinched her hand tightly as if in aching pain from missing her engagement ring.  
  
Vaughn got the hint and wrapped his arms around her tightly and kiss the crown of her head and held her there for a short moment. He sighed as he pulled back away from her. "Why are our lives like this?" She swallowed hard and curled even tighter towards him.  
  
Sydney looked up at him with sympathetic eyes, "Welcome to the United States Central Intelligence Agency."  
  
Vaughn shook his head and studied his knees for a moment, not wanting to look Sydney in the eyes. His breath was becoming painful again and he knew exactly what that meant. Nothing would give him a break today. "I always thought that when I was a kid, I would be a part of the CIA and everything would be just like James Bond movies. I would save the world in an Armani tux, always get the girl, avenge my father's death and the bad guy would be in jail all within two and a half hours with an awesome soundtrack blaring in my head. But now, I don't have any of it."  
  
Where was his fairy tale ending that he had seen so many times played out before him? Where were the designer cars with the designer clothes to match? Where were the wonderfully scripted villains that had no real motive and all they wanted was world domination but had more flaws than any other human being on the planet. Where was it all and how could he get it? The hero never had a flaw except for a good taste in clothes, women, and wine. And if he did say so himself, he had all three. But now, he had cancer that required evasive treatments and was still spreading. Actually, that knot in his shoulder was more than likely an effect from the cancer spreading. *The hero dies in this one.*  
  
"Well," Sydney replied interrupting his thoughts, "you did get the girl."  
  
"I did?" He lost the one woman in his life that always understood him. She didn't even argue when he had decided to join the CIA. All she did was nod slightly and walk from the room. But now, he had another woman that understood him in a different way. This woman, who he loved with all of his heart and soul, would keep him from the burning fires that threatened to engulf him. And he needed her more than ever.  
  
"You did."  
  
Vaughn acknowledged this and sunk further into his chair, reclining back slightly and opened his arms up for her to snuggled up against him. She smiled and agreed to it, settling on a spot below his breast bone, "You don't know how much I missed you."  
  
"Oh, I think I know." She replied, running her finger along on the veins in his arm. She curled up closer and he in turn, placed his hand on her stomach.  
  
He needed to know. "I want to go back to where we were before I left. Can we do that?" His mind had been swarming around with so many questions that it hurt to think of one more. But there was this one last question, the one he wanted to pop since he had met her, was the most important of all. He wanted to take her to the family villa in Fleury for a different reason other than a funeral.  
  
She snuggled up even closer and nodded into his chest, "I hated waking up alone." She thought of the pale blue sheets that had spread out over her bed. The right side was also cold and neat while the left side, her side, was lived in and comfortable. The right bedside table was empty and was only gathering dust. She hated being alone. "I felt like I had done something so horrible and I lost you-just like I lost." Her voice trailed off. She felt like she had lost Vaughn like she had lost Danny and Noah.  
  
"I know." He quieted her with a kiss to the forehead. "You know, you'll never lose me like you lost them. I'm not going anywhere anymore. I ran once and I'm *not* doing it again." His hand started to play with the ridges on her stomach. "You have me forever, if you want me."  
  
"And you'll have me forever, if you want me." She retorted, taking his hand in her own and started to play with his left ring finger, comparing it to her own. Her eyes reached up and with them, her hand reached his cheek. The slight stubble beneath her fingertips tickled slightly but the only thing on her mind was how wonderful he was. Their eyes locked for a moment, just like they had hundreds of times before. He reached down, engulfing himself in her. Their lips met, hesitantly at first but quickly grew in the intensity that was so familiar to both sets. His lips felt so smooth and sweet against hers and he felt the similar sentiment. Their hands started to explore each other and slowly, she started to turn off of her chest and onto her stomach, resting still on his chest. Her fingers explored his hair and felt his thinning frame beneath. His hands discovered her body, underneath the black silk. Her stomach was as toned as ever and the muscles in her body glistened in the harsh overhead lighting. His arms went to wrap her more tightly but was promptly stopped by the IV. His death sentence was hanging above him and hindering his chance for true happiness for a little while.  
  
He groaned slightly and looked above in frustration, "Damn it!" He yelped slightly.  
  
Taking notice, Sydney sat up and backed off of him. Her eyes were flooded with concern. She felt his pain and helped him to sit up more. She started to smile as he sat up further, rubbing his vein slightly. The color was beginning to return to his face, "You look better."  
  
He grinned suggestively, "I wonder why." The aching pain of his lost seemed to vanish for a few waking moments. It was nice to get a reprieve from the horrors of the real world. It may have seemed harsh to be making out with someone the day you found out of your mother's death but it was also the day that he was reunited with his love that he had lost over ten months ago. He leaned in for another passionate kiss but Sydney cut it short.  
  
"We have to stop. Right now." She looked away from him and over towards sleeping Weiss. A grin spread over her face as she quoted him from so many months ago. "Or else, we're going to wake Sleeping Beauty over there."  
  
"You think I don't hear you?" Weiss, lying face down on a similar seat, barked. "You two are like going at it like rabbits! There's going to be like a dozen little Sydney's and Vaughn's running around!"  
  
"Sorry, man." Vaughn quickly turned his head, replied and turned back towards Sydney.  
  
"Sorry!" Sydney squeaked and started to curl towards Vaughn before bursting into giggles.  
  
I'm sorry if this wasn't as good as the others. My favorite chapter is the next one, where you get to meet Isabelle and Claire. And you think the Bristows have family problems? Just you wait! I hope that my little scene between Syd and Vaughn wasn't too too bad. I've never written anything like that before!  
  
As always,  
  
Read and Review! Share you opinions and I will most definitely listen! 


	9. Weak at Heart

/N: We get to meet Vaughn's sisters! And you think the Bristows have secrets? You ain't seen nothing yet!  
  
The woman in the room stood almost as tall as anyone else. She was five feet nine with long chestnut colored hair that was swept back into an elegant twist. Her eyes were focused on the courtyard below her, with the beautiful flowers littering the green carpet outside. The clothes she wore hung on her as if they were made for her but she felt empty. Her hand rested on the lower part of her abdomen and ached from the lost of only three months ago. But now a new part of her ached. She had run out of tears a long while ago, having to identify her mother's body or more likely, what was left of her body. But now, standing in the living room of her youth, she felt all of those memories coming back to haunt her. The sunlight cascaded down upon her as she shut her hazel colored eyes. Her personal life was crashing down before her. Not only was she empty of her baby but now her marriage was seriously on the rocks.  
  
"What are you thinking about?" a soft voice carried behind her.  
  
"Nothing in particular." Isabelle replied, crossing her arms in front of her chest defensively, moving her eyes away from the window and spoke slightly over her shoulder, cloaked in black.  
  
The second woman laughed slightly as she floated into the room. "You were always a horrible liar."  
  
"Says you." She turned around, letting her black skirt flail along her legs. She was cloaked head to toe in black, as was her sister.  
  
"Michael's the one whose the liar in the family." The little sister responded, walking in from the doorway. Her pale features had been hidden by the shadows and as she entered the light, the resemblance between the two sisters became absolutely undeniable. With the exception of hair color, the sisters looked almost identical. Claire had gone through more hair colors than boyfriends and now, was single and had deep auburn, almost eggplant, colored hair. Her hair reached below the middle of her back but had been pulled up in an elegant twist with a few pieces cascading down. She had few freckled dotting her high cheek bones and a little cleft in her chin. Her eyes glowed a warm green.  
  
Isabelle crossed quickly to the blue floral couch, "When is Michael coming?" Her bare feet were quiet against the cool wood floor. She had seeked refuge outside beneath the willow tree of her youth but found it too hot.  
  
"Any minute now." Claire paused for a moment but kept pondering something for a moment. "Your accent is getting strong again. Where have you been touring?"  
  
Isabelle sighed heavily and sunk deep into chair, crossing her legs and throwing her arms over one side of the couch. "All over." She really didn't want to talk about it. It had been a painful month and a half of touring Europe. David, her estranged husband, had opted to stay home while she went off to find himself. He didn't understand why it had been so difficult for her and why she hadn't recovered as quickly as the "women on television." So, she had packed her things up and departed for her early childhood home. Fleury was more of her home than the states had ever been. A week in Fleury led to a week in Bordeaux and from there, she jumped across the pond to England and spent two week there.  
  
"Your accent was never that strong when we were kids." Claire responded, desperate to make conversation with her older sister. She missed conversation with her and loved her more than anything else in the world. Izzy had truly been her mother growing up and she was the one that gave her advice on clothes and dating and boys and other matters of teenage life.  
  
"Mom kept us over in the states so much." Izzy responded coldly.  
  
"And you hated her every moment for it."  
  
"No, I didn't."  
  
"You hated Dad for joining the CIA." Silence. "I know I always have. If he hadn't joined, he wouldn't have been murdered and neither would have mom."  
  
"How can you speak of the dead in such a way? Have some respect! I know you were only a baby when Dad was killed but G-d, Claire!" She rose to her feet and started to scream. She started to wave her hands wildly and she switched back and forth between French and English. "Have some respect!"  
  
"It's hard to! I mean, c'mon Izzy-"  
  
"Stop calling me Izzy! I grew out of that name a long time ago!" Isabelle snapped.  
  
"Fine-Isabelle! It's because of Dad's job that we were all put in this situation! If he had been something safer, like a teacher or something, we would still have a mother and a father and Michael wouldn't have joined the CIA." Her voice hissed the disdain she felt about her brother's job.  
  
Isabelle narrowed her eyes at her little sister and stepped up towards her, "You're afraid that Michael is going to be killed, like Dad." She hushed her voice and felt absolutely horrified at her discovery.  
  
Claire wouldn't look at her in the eye, "What if I am?"  
  
"It's bad enough that he's constantly looking over his shoulder. You don't need to be looking over it for him."  
  
"Someone does." She hissed back, sinking down and glaring at her sister.  
  
They sat like that for a long moment, neither knowing what to say. The wake was going to begin in a few hours and Vaughn hadn't arrived yet, leaving both of them to worry terribly about his safety. The younger sister was different than the other. She was as tall but her hair was long and blonde. She had a different glow to her. A different spirit. She was always feisty and never back away from a fight. She was loud and loved talking, singing, dancing..any form of movement or communication. The wild child had no job and chose to travel about the world, doing odd jobs for fun before traveling off like a gypsy. She had spent a great deal of time in the Europe, especially Britain. But after a recent turn of events, she took up residence in Arizona. The dry air soothed her, or so she said.  
  
The peasant skirt floated around her ankles as she straightened up on the couch. Years of intense ballet training was evident in her every movement. But behind the perky and loud exterior, a quiet, hurt child was hidden beneath. Her last relation, lasting the longest to date, ended in the bitterest of heartache that she kept concealed from her family. As far as they knew, he was a British born banker that had treated her well and then suddenly decided to call an end to the affair. But that was far from what happened. True, he was British born but he was not a banker to say the least. He worked for Her Majesty's Secret Service. Yes, he worked for MI- 5 and was constantly traveling about the United Kingdom and Europe, with Claire peacefully waiting at home. They were happy as can be when disaster struck. Samuel had been off on a mission when a secret organization abducted him and he vanished from the face of the earth. Emily, his partner in MI-5, brought Claire in for a debriefing, explaining what had happened. Claire knew of his agent status due to her father's and brother's status in the CIA. If she had been British born, they told her again and again, they would recruit her. But alas, there was a certain clause in their code that prevented such an action. On the other hand though, they did pul that one string...  
  
"You don't understand." Claire said at last. It was nice to free to move finally without the restraint around her waist. But now being around her family again, she had a heavy chain around her heart. "I wish you would."  
  
"What don't I understand? Tell me. I want to." Isabelle pleaded desperately.  
  
Claire sighed heavily and found solace by covering her eyes with her hand. "There are things that have happened in my life that no one would understand and now, I have to spend the rest of my life looking of *my* shoulder. I know how Michael feels and no one should have to go willingly into that. G-d knows I didn't." The first piece of her little puzzle was revealed.  
  
Silence coated them again. "There are things in my life that no one should ever have to go through. Losing Zoe was the most difficult thing." Zoe was her daughter that was still-born. Not wanting to cause her family any more grief that necessary, she lied and told everyone she miscarried. David was furious at her but she had her own beliefs. She had seen her family go through its period of mourning and she never wanted to witness it again. Little did she know her black garb would be brought out again in only three month's time. Isabelle leaned forward and embraced her dear little sister tightly, releasing the flood gates on their tears. Both sisters, one in her thirties, the other in her twenties, held onto each other for life as they sobbed endlessly.  
  
"This is it." Vaughn whispered, starring out the tinted window of the private car. The IV was absent and he was obviously feeling much better now that he was hydrated.  
  
Sydney leaned over him to look out the window as the black car started down the long winding driveway full of fresh orchids and roses. There was a beautiful white house sitting atop a small hill, covered with beautiful Cyprus trees, green in all their glory. Ivy grew from all corners, covering corners that were not tread on by man. A brick footpath led from the driveway to the front door. There was a sense of old world charm with crackled white paint and overgrown flowers. It was absolutely stunning. The country house was two floors with beautiful lace curtains hanging delicately in the fragile window frames. "It's beautiful." She whispered back, as if afraid to hear her own voice after such a long time of silence.  
  
Vaughn smiled his lopsided smile as his green eyes looked back to her and kissed her lightly. He pulled back slightly, with their lips almost touching. "It's my favorite place in the world." She swallowed his words and pressed further to feel his lips against hers. It was no doubt why she loved him so much.  
  
"Yeah, it's really nice." Weiss piped up from the other side of the car. They quickly parted, a scarlet hue apparent on both of their faces. "Thank you." He finished, tired of seeing his best friend and his girlfriend sticking their tongues down the others throats.  
  
"No problem." Sydney responded, placing her hand on Vaughn's around her waist. "We'll wait until later to finish." She raised her neatly plucked eyebrows suggestively and grinned.  
  
"No comment." Weiss grumbled back, crossing his arms over his chest and started to sulk.  
  
The car continued to grind up the gravel road and soon stopped. Vaughn unwrapped his body from Sydney's as the car lurched to a stop and stepped outside. He breathed in deeply, inhaling the fresh French air that he missed so much. A different type of smile crossed his lips. It wasn't that type of seductive smile that made Sydney's knees go weak so quickly. It was that smile of finally being home after being away so long. It was a smile of finally getting over that homesickness that plagued him in the back of his mind for so many waking hours. The child in him kept waiting for his mother, dressed in a floral sundress to open the aged door and open him in with open eyes as his father waited with coffee in the country kitchen. He turned away from the car, looking towards and house and then away towards the beautiful view of the trees and wild forest below him. Before the plane had landed, he had changed into a black suit. Actually, it was the same black suit that he had worn to Alice's father's funeral. He turned away from the house and felt tears spring to his eyes as he pushed his unbuttoned jacket away from his body as he placed his hands on his hips, revealing his well placed hip holster.  
  
Sydney quickly followed out, smoothing the wrinkles out of her three quarter sleeve dress that reached a conservative length at her knee. Her hair was pinned back into a high class ponytail. She looked picture perfect and the air of sophistication surrounded her. The poise of a dancer was relevant as her eyes scanned the horizon and finally settled on Vaughn.  
  
Weiss was the last man out of the car as he slammed the door loudly and murmured instructions to the driver as he started to drive off. It came out more like wild tongue swears of plain English and CIA code words.  
  
"Oncle? Oncle?" A little voice rang out from behind an overgrown weeping willow tree. A beautiful little black hair girl appeared, dressed in a black dressed that reached beneath her knees. Even from yards away, the smile and the excitement was easy to see. She ran, full force at Vaughn as he slowly turned around at the sound of hearing the familiar word.  
  
He turned around, the smile radiating from his body. He hadn't seen the little girl in months and loved her more than life itself. She was the one female in the world that held his heart unconditionally. She was also the key to many secrets in Vaughn's life. These were the secrets that he was determined to reveal to Sydney by the time they returned home. "Maisie? Maisie!" His body crouched down as the little girl came running at him as fast as her little legs could carry her. In a matter of a few moments, the little four year old was swept into her loving uncle's arms and twirled around, much to her delight. She squealed loudly and held onto his neck for dear life.  
  
"Oncle! Oncle!" She giggled and laughed even harder as Vaughn turned her on back in his arms and started to kiss all over. She was most definitely a Vaughn. Her eyes were a glowing hazel color with the same creamed peach and bronze complexion. There was a delicate little cleft in her chubby little face. The only thing that set her apart was her long dark, nearly black hair that trailed behind her as she spun.  
  
He set her upright in his arms and grinned happily, "Hello Miss Maisie! How are you?"  
  
"I'm good!" the four, almost five year old responded proudly.  
  
"Good!" He spun her around once more, balancing her on his stomach, "I have someone I want you to meet." He took his free hand and motioned to Sydney for her to come closer. He couldn't remember the last time he was so happy. He forgot about the death and the cancer and just focused on the love he felt pounding in his head and in his heart. He swung her around so that she balanced on his hip as he extended his hand out for Sydney to take. She gingerly walked over and took it tightly.  
  
The little girl was overjoyed by seeing a woman near her beloved uncle. She was precocious child who easily put two and two together. She wasn't stupid: she heard her mother whispering with the others in her family about how Uncle Michael should settled down. "I have a tante?" That was another thing that made her a Vaughn. She used French constantly, including the word for aunt (tante.)  
  
He wished. He wished he had come here to announce his engagement to the love of his life. "Noooo."  
  
"Noooo." She mocked him and overlapped him, pressing her lips into an O shape.  
  
Vaughn broke the chain and turned to Sydney. "Sydney Bristow, meet Maisie Marie Vaughn, my one and only niece." There was a deep secret pitted in that sentence that started to jab at his heart as he introduced them. He wanted to tell her so badly but as soon as the words were emitted, they would unravel everything he had ever worked for.  
  
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Maisie." Sydney smiled and nodded her head slightly towards her. "She's beautiful, Vaughn." She walked closer to the picture perfect pair and put her hand on his shoulder. Her heart was beginning to swell at the thought of Vaughn holding their own child one day.  
  
"Thank you." Vaughn whispered under his breath, not really wanting her to hear it. She didn't need to know this.  
  
The girl started to grow shy and gripped her uncle tighter, "Hello, Miss Bristow."  
  
"Call me Sydney, Maisie." She grinned and tilted her head to the side.  
  
Maisie curled up closer and starred at Sydney with wide, child fearing eyes. She looked so grave and so serious, much like her uncle during times of stress. She rested her head on his jaw line, "You're prickly, Oncle."  
  
Vaughn laughed causing Maisie to bounce slightly. "It has been a while since I've shaved. You think I need it?" The little girl laughed a reply, instantly returning to the life she had exuded not thirty seconds before .  
  
"She looks just like you, Mike but with darker hair." Weiss walked towards the happy looking picture and smiled but his eyes were focused on the child. "She almost looks like-what was her name? The one you dated for a while?"  
  
Vaughn felt his eyes bug out of his head at the mention of the girl he had dated. All he wanted was Weiss to shut up and forget it. The last thing he wanted to think about was Jeanette the woman he had dated for two years. He attempted to silence him with his not so obvious facial expressions.  
  
"What?" replied a clueless Weiss.  
  
Vaughn abruptly changed to subject by turning back to his niece. He couldn't stand the looks he was getting from Sydney. "You're my favorite little girl in the whole wide world!"  
  
"It's a good thing Zoe's in heaven or else I wouldn't be your favorite." She replied simply, in a sing-song voice.  
  
Vaughn drew in a sharp breath, "Maisie, who's Zoe?" His mind started to race of the possibilities of what she was talking about. Granted, four year olds make up stories all the time and Maisie was exceptionally bright for her age but to find a name for the miscarried baby? What was going on? His exhausted mind rummaged through the possibilities and couldn't think of any.  
  
Maisie rolled her eyes in frustration, "The baby Maman had in her belly but when she came out, she was already in heaven."  
  
"Where is Maman?" Vaughn questioned, feeling his brow wrinkle in concern.  
  
"She's with Tante Claire." Maisie started to worm around, eager to start playing tag or tickle monster or something. Her bare feet were tickled by the day's dew from the lawn.  
  
He immediately grasped her hand in his, still keeping Sydney's in the other. This was the first time in his life that he held the hands of the women he loved at one time. "And Tante Claire?"  
  
She rolled her eyes impatiently, "In the house, silly!"  
  
"We need to get into the house. Is that okay, Syd? I haven't seen my sister-"  
  
"Vaughn, it's okay. I want to see more."  
  
"Michael's here." Claire moved away from the window of her childhood bed chamber. It was a beautiful lilac colored room that smelled of fresh sprayed perfume and dried laundry. "and he's brought that new girlfriend of his." She returned to her vanity and finished applying a light brushing of make-up.  
  
Isabelle thought about this for a moment. "Do you think she knows about Maisie?" She was starring down at her shoes and felt her brow wrinkle in concern. The skeletons of the Vaughn closet. Even though Claire and Vaughn were the closest to each other, Vaughn and Isabelle shared a secret that could destroy all of them. Okay, so maybe it wasn't that bad but it was bad enough that it could destroy all of their personal relationships.  
  
Claire opened a fresh compact of make-up, smelling its fresh smell before taking a black brush and sweeping it over her face. Almost instantly, her face began to shine with a false sense of radiance. A creamed rose colored powder followed and she started to look more and more alive. "I don't know but I almost hope that she doesn't. It'll be much easier to get away with. The only ones that knew are you, me, Michael, and mom."  
  
"David doesn't even know. As far as he knows.." Isabelle let her voice trail off, as if she was afraid that she couldn't speak the truth.  
  
"It's better this way. We need our secrets." Claire responded, knowing full well her share of secrets needed to be shared by the time she went home. She knew the truth about Vaughn but now he needed to know the truth about her.  
  
A/N:  
  
So, what do you think about Maisie? 


	10. A Family Affair

Thank you to Spybunny, Jacky, Dori, Lara, and Kay10197 for your reviews! And to answer your questions, keep your eyes on Maisie, Vaughn, and Isabelle. (especially the relationship between Isabelle and Vaughn and Isabelle and her husband)  
  
Trust me, there are more secrets to come and to be revealed!  
  
"Izzy, Claire! I'm here!" Vaughn cried, as he pushed open the door of the familiar estate. Seeing his favorite niece, well only niece, had given him much more energy than expected. Okay, maybe not quite but he had decided to ignore the dull aching pain in his chest that had started to reoccur. He knew exactly what that pain meant and wanted to not think about it so badly. He pushed open the old wooden door to reveal the inside of the manor that smelt like fresh lilacs and roses. Sydney was well at his heels, reveling in a sight of a lived in home. Maisie had gotten over her shyness and was now talking a mile a minute to Sydney about everything and anything to Sydney and Sydney was listening and hanging onto every word. Maternal instincts were running very high. The only one missing from the picture was Weiss, who was left to attend to the bags, unwillingly.  
  
The sisters still sat above in the room when they heard the door open. It was the younger one that jumped to her feet and ran from the room as if she was on fire. Her eyes were bright and alive for the first time in a long time. She loved her brother more than anything else in the world, even though he was six years older than her. "Michael!" Claire bolted from her room upstairs and down the wooden stairs into her brother's arms. She gripped him tightly and at such a force, he groaned slightly from the sudden impact. There was no doubt that they were related and that they were close. They held each other for a long moment until Claire stepped back, "How are you feeling? You don't look well." She reached up to touch his face but he shooed it away.  
  
"You sound like Mom, stop." He bantered with familiarity of an older brother, knocking her hands away from his face, attempting to see if he had fever. Thank goodness he was an agent and could hide pain from those he loved.  
  
"Well, someone has to keep you in line." She retorted, withdrawing her hand to her side with a hurt air. "Now that Mom's not around..."  
  
"Yeah, I know." He kissed her forehead and gave her another tight squeeze and started to whisper in French, "How are you doing? I know that things have been tough for you. How are you handling this?"  
  
Claire found unwanted tears coming to her wild child eyes. She sniffled a reply and nodded in her older brother's shoulder. "I'll be fine."  
  
"Liar." Vaughn laughed in her hair. He leaned back and stooped down to look at her in the eyes, "I was always the good liar in the family and we all know it." He gripped her shoulders tightly.  
  
Claire laughed lightly again at her brother and then looked at the woman standing, unsure at the door. Her language switched to English. "And you must be Sydney? How do you do? I'm Claire, Michael's little sister." She released her grasp from her brother and focused on Sydney. "It's so nice to meet you! I've heard so much about you!" She instantly reached towards the younger woman and pulled her into a tight embrace. Sydney felt awkward and the hug was completely unexpected.  
  
Sydney's awkwardness soon disappeared and she felt so welcomed into the family. Now she understood why Vaughn loved to come home so much. "It's so wonderful to meet you. I've been dying to meet Vaughn's family." They separated for a moment and Claire smiled warmly at her. There was not a line or a wrinkle on her face and she was stunning in her long black skirt with sleeveless shirt. She opened her mouth to say something about 'Vaughn' but chose not to.  
  
There was a long moment of simple silence. "Where's Izzy?" Vaughn asked, his eyes searching the house expectedly.  
  
Claire rolled her eyes and stepped away from Sydney. Her tone was sardonic and sarcastic, "First of all, we can't call her Izzy anymore. She's *Isabelle* and second, she's upstairs. Isabelle? Isabelle?" She turned towards the stairs and started to shout upwards. Her hands went instinctively up to her hips and started to tap her foot impatiently as she continued to yell anxiously.  
  
Sydney stepped closer to Vaughn and when brown met green, concern was apparent once again. "Are you okay? You're pale again." Sydney whispered under her breath. Vaughn lied and nodded that he was okay but he knew Sydney didn't buy into it. "We'll get settled and then you're going to take a nap."  
  
Claire paused from her yelling to turn back to the couple, who abruptly stopped talking, "I don't know where she is!"  
  
Another woman appeared on the top of the stairs, one had on the railing, one on her hip. "Will ya quit your yelling? She's right up here." Isabelle said with false annoyance from the top of the stairs. Her eyes held equal warmness to Claire's. A broad smile crept over her lips as she received her new guests, melting away false hostility. Her long chestnut colored hair had been swept into a French twist, held by a long black chopstick with a tiny rhinestone on the end. Her body was adorned with her simplest jewelry; a diamond pendant around her neck and her wedding and engagement ring on her fingers. She was perfectly made up and smelled like the sweetest perfume. Her face, dry from tears and concealed from its redness, now glowed at the sight of Vaughn and his long time but dangerous love.  
  
The toddler was the first to welcome the new maiden. Maisie shrieked loudly, "Mama!"  
  
"Maisie!" Isabelle grinned from ear to ear, hurrying down the steps to take her daughter into her arms. She kissed her lightly on the forehead as the tiny daughter hugged her tightly around the neck. "I'm Isabelle. You're Sydney, I presume?" She wanted to shake her hand but couldn't free herself.  
  
"Yes." Sydney smiled at the warm looking sister dressed in cold looking black. "Your daughter is beautiful, Isabelle."  
  
"Thank you, Sydney." She beamed with pride over the compliment for her daughter. The older sister walked towards her brother, kissing both sides of his face and whispered quickly in French, "She's beautiful, Michael."  
  
Vaughn grinned at getting his sister's approval, "She is, isn't she?"  
  
The mother continued to float in between Vaughn and Claire only to set her daughter down and reach to embrace Sydney. Getting use to their family ways, Sydney hugged equally back. "Where are your baggage? We have to get you settled if the wake's in a few hours." Isabelle took Sydney's hand, "Let me show you to room?"  
  
Sydney smiled, taking the sister's hand and feeling part of the family. "I would love that, thank you." She shot Vaughn a concerned but happy look to which he mirrored exactly.  
  
"Don't listen to a word she says about my childhood!" Vaughn cried happily and received a menacing look from his older sister. And they disappeared upstairs.  
  
As soon as they were out of earshot, Claire's entire attitude changed, "You are sleeping with Derevko's daughter? How could you? And how could you bring her into this house!"  
  
"Who's that?" Maisie asked innocently, playing with the hem of her aunt's dress.  
  
Claire knelt down, "Why don't you go upstairs by Mama, okay?"  
  
"Okay."  
  
"Okay." Claire's tone changed entirely to the sugar sweet sound of an aunt as she watched her beloved little niece ascend the stairs. She gave her a tap on the rear end to help her up the stairs a bit. It had barely been two seconds before she started again on her rant, "How could you, Michael?" She stood up to face him.  
  
Vaughn didn't know what to think, "I can't believe we're even having this conversation! Sydney is not Irinia! We've been over this a thousand times!" He quieted his voice and started to feel weak again. His mind was not as strong as he thought it was and the tightening feeling around his chest gave him unwanted news of a retuning demon.  
  
Claire started to plead, "I can't believe that you're doing this to our family! She looks just like Irinia! Anyone who's seen that file is going to know! I can't believe you!" She turned to run somewhere. She didn't even know where she anted to go but she knew she had to get out of there. This was too overwhelming for even her.  
  
Vaughn grabbed her tightly by the arm and held her in the foyer. "You have to know that I love Sydney more than anything else in this world." A new sense of urgency filled his voice as he hushed his tone to a whisper. "She's why I'm standing here today. She's saved my life more times than I care to count and she's the one that dragged my from my bed and into the center. And she's the one that told me the news." He took an overly dramatic pause. "She is my strength, Claire. I love her."  
  
Claire's eyes started to swell with unwanted tears. "But she's the daughter of the killer of our parents. You're going to be killed-just like Dad." She felt the fear that she kept bottled up for how over twenty years. It had eaten her alive everyday and for the first time since she was two, she le the cork in the bottle to fall off.  
  
Vaughn felt absolutely helpless. His arm was still gripped tightly around his sister's freshly toned arm but he felt his body growing weaker. "I won't. I promise." He said falsely. He pulled her into a deep hug and felt her sobs shake her tiny frame. There was something different about her though. She was more toned and muscular. There was a different way that she talked too. It was the way that agents spoke to each other and only agents could pick up on it. She squeezed tighter as the tears squeezed their way out of her eyes. She buried her head in his chest and soaked his shirt.  
  
It wasn't the embrace that was hurting his lungs. It was something else-something internal. The tightness in his chest grew almost unbearable and he suddenly felt a lack of oxygen to his brain. He went to further his promise but sharply inhaled and started to wheeze. "I need to sit." He managed to gasp, feeling the effects of the chemotherapy start to take effect.  
  
Newfound terror crept through his sister's eyes as she wrapped her arm around his back and ushered him towards the formal living room. He quickly eased himself into a white and blue toile chair, feeling the soft fabric beneath him. His breath was coming shorter and in harder gasps. "What is it? Michael? Michael, talk to me!" She knelt down before him and placed her hands on his face as he started to concave over his knees, gripping his chest tightly. "What's wrong?" Her voice started to break even more than before. Her body still racked with the tears from before.  
  
Now he couldn't even talk. His chest started to burn badly and he felt his head go dizzy from lack of oxygen. He knew he was going to pass out in a moment. This was the worst time for this to happen. The wake was about to start in a few hours and here he was, hyperventilating from the tumor in his lung. He was going to have to tell his sisters about this now. His vision was beginning to grow cloudy as the tightness ensued. "Get..S...S.." He managed to hiss out.  
  
"Get Sydney?" Claire managed to make out and then turned to bolt up the stairs. She secretly thanked her new trainer for making her do so many sets of stairs everyday. She knew that Sydney was staying in the guest room halfway down the left hall. She sprinted as fast as humanly possible. Her body had never moved so quickly in all of her life or at least, in real life. She reached the wooden door frame and saw Sydney sitting on the bed, lightly conversing with Isabelle. "Sydney! Michael's sick!" That's all she could say before she ran out and back down the stairs. Sydney's eyes grew wide at the initial knowledge but knew exactly what she was talking about. Her feet tore away from the privacy of the purple and white bedroom and down to the unfamiliar living room. She ran at full speed down the stairs and looked left and right, not sure which way to go. Her eyes quickly found Vaughn's form and she lunged towards him.  
  
"Vaughn? Vaughn?" She fell at his feet and ran her hands over his face. "What is it? Is your chest? Tightness?" She received an firm nod at each one. Feeling absolutely desperate, she turned to Claire, who stood immobile near the back.  
  
"What is it? Is he dying? What is it?" She managed to gasp over and over again.  
  
"Run and get Weiss, the man outside! Tell him to bring the medic bag. It's urgent!" She rattled off the information, feeling her tongue move faster than ever before. She didn't even watch Claire leave. "Stay with me, sweetie. C'mon. You're okay. You're gonna be okay. Don't worry. Don't worry." She whispered over and over again. Her hands eased him back into the chair, her fingers lingering along his neck to find a rapid pulse. Without even consulting her watch, she knew his heart was going into overdrive. "Please baby, stay with me."  
  
Weiss burst into the house with more speed and energy than she had ever seen before. He quickly joined Sydney on his knees and rummaged through his medical bag. An oxygen mask with cylinder were quickly found and administered. It took him longer than expected to relax and succumb to the oxygen. After about two minutes, he could take a truthful inhale. "I've got him. Why don't you calm the sister?" Weiss watched nervously as Claire started to pace back and forth in the doorway. He turned away from Vaughn for a moment and started to scrunch around for something to relax him.  
  
So..what did you think? 


	11. Truth Be Told

A/N: Tissues may be needed! All of the secrets are going to start being revealed. Including the big Maisie mystery!  
  
"I have to tell you both something and it's going to be difficult but I need you to let me get it all out before you say anything." A slow breath came before he started the story. He was sitting in the bedroom of his childhood. Claire and Isabelle each sat on one side of the bed, their eyes wide with anticipation. Sydney and Weiss sat away from him a little bit, exchanging nervous glances now and then. Isabelle sat close to Vaughn, her hand clasped tightly in his and Maisie sitting on her lap, in the most exhausted way. Her porcelain like complexion was rosy as she tilted her head against her mother's jaw line. She started to play with Isabelle's fingertips, giggling every now and then as Isabelle let her hands drop onto her daughter's lap.  
  
Vaughn was sitting on his bed, propped up by pillows and an oxygen tank resting nearby. His eyes were the clearest they had been in weeks. This was good for him. He needed to reveal all of his secrets to the women that mattered most in his life. Weiss, Weiss already knew all of these secrets and hell, he was in most of the secrets. He conspired in most of the secrets! But pausing to put all of the heaviness of his heart aside, he continued. "About a year ago, I was having trouble breathing. After I need any type of exercise or was put under high stress, I couldn't catch my breath. So logically, I went to the doctor. He did a normal physical and then did an x-ray of my lungs." He swallowed hard as the memories came surging back. "They found a large mass in my left lung."  
  
Isabelle instantly gasped and tears sprung to Claire's eyes. Their hands were instantly locked into each other and their heartbeats, the three Vaughn children's heartbeats, all started to beat as one.  
  
This was no longer painful. This was energizing for him to talk about this. He needed to get this off his chest for so many months now and all he could do was push forward to continue to talk about it. "They ran some more tests and they concluded that it was in fact cancerous." The worry lines were now deep set in his forehead. "I-I had start with radiation treatments but those-those didn't work. The mass didn't shrink in size at all and they tried to avoid surgery but that didn't work. So finally, I had to quit my job at the LA agency office and move out to New York to undergo the surgery and a more intense round of treatments."  
  
"You don't work for the state department anymore?" Claire yelped in absolutely horror. If he had quit the agency, then she didn't know what. Then all of her accusations towards him were almost false and....Her hands pulled back from the triad in absolute fear.  
  
He looked at her with eyes that only a sister could read; 'Shut up!!!' He cleared his throat and continued, "I still work for the agency, Claire but now I'm in the New York office. But anyway, I had the surgery about ten months ago and they didn't get it all. I started intense chemotherapy and that didn't work and now....now I'm back in LA for one last try. I just had a treatment a few days ago so! The shortness of breath-that comes and goes." Vaughn nodded his head at the last bullet point and managed to smile. "I'm okay though. I'm feeling good."  
  
Sydney shifted her weight uncomfortably. This was the first time she had ever heard the story all the way through. But strangely, she felt as though she heard the story a thousand times before. Her eyes drifted towards Weiss's, who refused to look at anyone. His eyes were locked on the bed skirt and his face was blank.  
  
Isabelle was now in tears. She reached over her almost sleeping daughter and embraced Vaughn tightly, sobbing into his shoulder. "I'm not going to lose you." She managed to choke out, wishing the tears would soon stop. "You're not going to die on me."  
  
More of the salty liquid sprung to Vaughn's eyes, "I'm not going anywhere, Izzy." He whispered back softly. He attempted to calm her in anyway possible but he consciously knew that nothing he could say would make this pain go away. And this newfound guilt he was feeling made his life that much more difficult. He was doing this it her. He was causing her this pain and making her cry. And it hurt him so much. He tried to comfort her, sinking his head into her shoulder as she sobbed into his chest. It was a beautiful but horrible picture. A physically dying brother and an emotionally dying sister embraced so tightly with their vivacious sister, and his vibrant love and droll best friend looking on.  
  
A little voice disrupted the picture, "Maman! Maman, you're crushing me! Mommy!" Maisie squealed from the depths of her. She tried to worm her way out of the tight embrace that she was caught in between. "Oncle! Oncle!"  
  
Vaughn realized this first and pulled back slightly, gazing down at the beloved little girl. He leaned forward and planted a small kiss on the top of her forehead. "I'm sorry, Miss Maisie." A tearful smile began to play on his lips as he let go of his sister and hugged the girl tightly. "Are you okay?"  
  
The little girl, his rock, giggled at this and buried her head into his shoulder. "What's going on?"  
  
A strong look was shot from Vaughn to Isabelle and neither knew how to react to this very blunt question from the purest form of life.  
  
"Come along, Maisie. We have to get ready for company." Claire was the first one to stir from the deafening silence that followed the story. Her voice started out soft and shaking, as though she was going into shock. Her body was shaking and felt a sympathy pain reach through her chest and pull her heart from her body. She loved him so much that it honestly hurt. "We-we need to be leaving soon. For-for-for the-um wake." She stammered and rose to her feet suddenly. "I'll take Maisie and finish getting things ready." She reached through Vaughn and Isabelle and took very much awake child in her arms, despite protests from her.  
  
The silence took over again as Claire adjusted the weight on the child in her arms and bolted from the door. "We'll go sit in the bedroom and play with the dolls okay? The ones that Grandmother gave you? Does that sound good?" She cooed softly into Maisie's hair as she left the room. Her heeled footsteps were heard racing down the hallway, opening the door, pausing, closing the door and rushing partially down another hallway. Finally, after about a minute, a sudden thud was heard.  
  
They all heard the noise but only Sydney and Weiss rose from their positions, "Stay!" Sydney exclaimed as she saw Vaughn start to stir. She glanced back only once as she saw Vaughn settled back down and try again to console his sister. Sydney bolted from the room to find what had happened. Panic and unknowing spirits took over as she ran out the door to find Claire, huddled in the corner outside Maisie's room, crying. She instantly crouched down towards the fallen Vaughn sister, Weiss looking on. "Claire?"  
  
The sobs overtook her body as she began to rock back and forth. Her speech was undecipherable for a long time. As Sydney walked slowly towards her, she could clearly make out certain phrases that Claire was softly utterly. "He can't die. He just can't. I refuse to lose one more person in my life. First Daddy, then Samuel, then Maman, and then Michael? I can't do it. I just can't do it." She sobbed endlessly as she tried to calm herself in any ways possible. She felt as though her insides were pulling against her. This was the worst pain and she had felt it way too many times in the last couple of months. Those tears. Those seemingly endless tears coursed down her face outlining newly formed wrinkles.  
  
Sydney crept towards her, collapsing down to her knees. She reached out towards her and finally found herself sitting next to a woman that she had so much in common with but she knew so little about. After ten seconds, Claire was wrapped in her arms and sobbing. "He's not dying. Not today, at least. I won't let him leave me. Leave us." Her brown eyes looked up helpless to see Weiss standing there and watching.  
  
His countenance looked uncomfortable as he watched this tender scene. "I'll go check in on the little girl." His big brown eyes looked lovingly back at the awkward event that could have taken place. But Sydney knew how to handle these situations. Not only was she trained in situations, similar to this but she had first hand experience at this. She was all too familiar with the lost of a loved one.  
  
"Maisie." Sydney mouthed in response, still trying to calm the youngest Vaughn sister.  
  
Weiss nodded affirmatively to this and approached the small little chamber to find Maisie sitting on her floor playing with a Barbie doll. The room smelled of fresh lavender and was painted a crisp white color with hand panted purple accents. Old teddy bears and dolls from an easier time were propped up in an old rocking chair near the long oak colored dresser with tall mirror. This was Isabelle's childhood room. And beautifully decorated. "Hi. You're Maisie, right?" He quickly and inwardly cringed. If this little girl was anything like her uncle, she would already have an FBI check on him.  
  
The beautiful green eyes glanced up from the blonde doll and up at Weiss with an absolute puppy dog look, "What's cancer?" She asked very simply. Her eyes returned to her Barbie doll as she made the doll march across the floor, to a simple little melody she made up as she went along. This little child seemed not have an absolute care in the world. Her biggest problem was that Barbie couldn't stay up late enough to go to the ball with Ken or if her pink Prada pumps didn't match the clothes she was wearing.  
  
Weiss cleared his throat uncomfortably and shut the door tightly, not wanting anyone to hear this delicate conversation that he was absolutely sure that he was going to botch in some way, shape, or form. "You heard your Uncle Mike and mom talking about it and now you want to know what it is?"  
  
She looked up again and her facial expression surely read "Duh." But being classy at the age of four, almost five, she simply replied, "What's cancer, Uncle Eric?" Without waiting for a reply, she looked back towards her doll, dressed head to toe in black and continued to prance her up and down the hardwood floors.  
  
After a long moment of trying to catch her breath, she could finally could look at Vaughn, "So, are you dying?" Isabelle had let her head fall on his shoulder as she tried to calm her breath. She had shed too many tears in the last few days.  
  
He looked down at her and smiled slightly at his anticipated response, "Not today, I'm not."  
  
She was absolutely not satisfied with this answer and curled into herself more. "You can't die." She let silence creep into the small space they shared. There was this type of bond that could only be explained through an older sister and a younger brother. She started to talk again, with a more sober tone. "How long did they give you  
  
He shifted to get more comfortable and started to stroke her hair softly, trying to soothe her in any means possible. "If this treatment works, twenty months to twenty four months."  
  
"Two years?" She managed to whisper. The tears started to choke her voice again as she tried to ask the next question, "And if it doesn't?"  
  
He sighed heavily and folded his hands over her shoulder, studying them intently, "Inside a year." He inhaled deeply and watched his sister raise from this deep breathing.  
  
Isabelle jumped up with the little energy she had retained inside herself. Her eyes were wide with absolute outrage. The fact was that these answers were not what she wanted at all. She expected to see a completely and totally healthy little brother. And now she felt like her entire world was being shaken. "Inside a year? You won't be able to see your own daughter grow up!" She instantly fought temptation for her to clap her hands over her mouth. She definitely should not have just said what she just said aloud.  
  
His eyes shot up and glared at her. He wished with all of his heart that she didn't just say that. His tone was harsh and cold as he conversed intently in French. "Shut up, Isabelle. She's your daughter, Izzy. You've raised her as your own and as far as she knows, she was adopted. And she was. I'm just her uncle. We're not going to go there!"  
  
Isabelle matched his tone in her native tongue, "But she's *your* child, Michael. You and Jeanette-"  
  
"Leave Jeanie out of this!!" He dropped his voice low and raspy. He felt his heart start to beat loudly in his chest. "True, Maisie be my child but I am more certainly not a father to that girl. I wish I could be but I can't. Jeanie and I both agreed that this would be the most suitable course of action. It would keep our lives safe, it would keep Maisie safe, and most of all, give you the daughter that you wanted. This worked out best for everyone."  
  
"You keep enough secrets in your life. Why is that you need to keep one more from the woman you supposedly love so much? You need to tell Sydney about Maisie." She dropped her tone to match her brother's.  
  
Vaughn pulled back and wanted to leave the bed so badly. This wasn't the conversation he wanted to have a few hours before his mother's wake. "How did we go from talking about my cancer to telling Sydney about your daughter?"  
  
"It's gonna be okay, Claire. I know it doesn't seem like it but it will. He's not dying. I won't let him." Sydney tried to comfort Claire the best way she knew how-lying. It was amazing how similar the two women were. They were about the same age, with relatively the same build, and with enough make-up, they could look like at least sisters, if not more. The agent knew not how to react this news hitting herself, let alone aid another. "He's a fighter, Claire. You've known this since day one. He doesn't like to give up. He *won't* give up. I won't let him and I'm willing to bet my life that you won't."  
  
"It's just...It's just..." Claire in turn, curled her knees up close to her chest and buried her head in her knees as she tried to search for some sort of answers to this Pandora's box. "I've lost too many men in my life. It's truly ridiculous. I mean, everyone that I've truly loved in my life, I've ended up losing. I lost my father, then my mother, then Samuel, and I've almost lost Michael. It just isn't fair. I can't do this anymore. I give up. I just can't." Sobs, endless, tireless sobs shook her body to no end.  
  
Sydney recognized this pain. This is what losing Danny felt like. It was this horrible type of void that swarmed around her heart that refused to fill. "I know it feels like that."  
  
Claire's eyes showed anger as she looked at Sydney. "You have no clue what this pain feels like."  
  
"Yes, I do. I lost my mother, I lost my fiancé, and then I lost a boyfriend and I almost lost another. Trust me, I know what that pain feels like."  
  
Suddenly, as if without warning, Claire felt like spilling the waters she had dammed up for so long. "Samuel and I were engaged."  
  
She felt strangely puzzled by this, "Who's Samuel?"  
  
"I met Samuel Hartfield while I was living in London for a while. We hit it off right away and then, I don't even know what happened but I started living in his flat. We tried to keep secrets from each other but somehow, I don't even know how, we couldn't. He ended up telling me about his involvement with 5-"  
  
"5? As in MI-5? As in British intelligence?" Sydney barely realized that her mouth was moving as the words poured out of her mouth.  
  
"Yes! No! I don't know!" Claire threw her arms up in frustration and leaned back against the wall, starring up at the ceiling. "I guess so! Then, all of a sudden, G-d, Sydney! I don't even know how all of this happened! One moment I could swear on my life that he was just a banker and then the next thing I consciously know, he's telling me about his involvement with 5 and then Emily, his-his partner, is telling me that he was killed in the line by this other agency and I don't know. I just don't know!" The sobs took over her body once more. "I just don't know anymore. I don't know." Her body started to ache with the torments of this anguish.  
  
The little girl had placed her doll down and looked positively bored at Weiss's explanation. "So...is Oncle gonna be okay?"  
  
Weiss shifted his weight on his haunches and looked at the little girl with the most compassion in the world. "He's gonna be okay, Maisie."  
  
The little child rose to her feet and walked three feet to the overgrown teddy bear and looked at him with wide eyes. With only hesitating for a moment, she wrapped her arms around his thick neck, burying her head in his shoulder. "He's not gonna go away like Grandmaman, is he?" She whispered softly as Weiss took her into his arms and stood up.  
  
"No. He's gonna be around forever." He lied flatly through his teeth, starting to rock Maisie slightly as he walked along the room. "Your Oncle is one of the strongest people I know." He adjusted the weight on the small child in his arms and started to make his way out of the door. It was time for them to rejoin the party and see how they were making out there. He felt as though they had been out of the loop for too long.  
  
There was a brief moment of clarity in his mind. "If you were Sydney, you would want to know about Maisie, right?"  
  
Isabelle nodded her head sincerely. "I think you owe it to yourself, to Sydney, to me, and especially to Maisie." She swallowed for a moment and continued. "You have to tell Sydney."  
  
"I have to tell Sydney." Vaughn repeated with absolute determination.  
  
"You have to tell Sydney what?" Sydney asked, standing near the doorframe.  
  
A/N:  
  
Love it? Hate it? It's going to start moving faster, don't worry!!  
  
Wow, I was really impressed! Ten reviews for one chapter? I'm sorry that I gave some of you a heart attack and don't worry, I'm giving up on this story! 


	12. Unravel

She moved from the spot at the door, leaving Claire to simply gape at the doorway. "Vaughn?" She received no answer as she advanced further into the room. The tone of her voice was all too familiar. It was that unbelieving tone that she had used when he found out that he was keeping things, important things from her. "What do you have to tell me?" Sydney walked closer into the room, easing Claire into a nearby chair as she inched closer to the bed. The hand made quilt felt comfortable against her from as she sat down. There was no doubt in her mind that something was wrong. There was something in Isabelle's stark movements and the sorrowfulness in Vaughn's tone.  
  
Isabelle had stood up abruptly and walked quickly towards the window, keeping her hands on her hips. Her head started to spin and her eyes started to burn with threat of tears. She felt a rush of cool air hit her as she waked towards the frosty pane. Her lips were drawn into a thin straight line and she kept an emotionless face.  
  
"Vaughn? Vaughn, what is it? It can't be that bad." She sought after his eye contact but he adamantly refused to look at her. "C'mon, baby. It's us. We've been through so much! How bad can it be?"  
  
Vaughn sat in silence, starring down at his hands and felt his brow wrinkle in worry. He honestly couldn't answer her without saying something he would regret. His mind was working in overdrive just to say one simple thing.  
  
By this time, Weiss and Maisie had joined them in Vaughn's bedroom. They had both taken residence in an oversized chair and Maisie was kept occupied by Weiss bouncing her up and down. "Are! You! Feeling! Better! Oncle!" Maisie squealed and managed to jet out before she was bounced up again.  
  
"Yeah." Vaughn choked out, making his first attempt at sound since Sydney came into the room. "Hey, man, why don't you take Maisie back into her room for a minute? I need to talk to Syd about something."  
  
"No Oncle! I wanna stay with you!" Maisie quickly whined as soon as she landed back down on Weiss's knee. She fought away from the grasp of the agent and barreled towards her uncle, almost knocking Sydney over. "Mommy, can I stay?"  
  
"You can stay." Isabelle replied rather coldly. She didn't even turn to acknowledge her daughter. "You can stay."  
  
"Good!" Maisie replied triumphantly. She crossed her arms as she nuzzled nearer her beloved uncle.  
  
Sydney was now growing absolutely impatient. "What is do you have to tell me, Vaughn? This game is getting old!" She was growing absolutely nervous. This wasn't like Vaughn to keep something from her and this was obviously very bad. Very, very bad.  
  
He suddenly became a ticking time bomb and couldn't take it anymore. "I'm not Maisie's uncle-I'm her father!" Vaughn finally erupted, finally able to look her in the eye. After a moment of being calming himself, he spoke softly again. "I'm Maisie's father."  
  
She felt her eyes grow very wide and couldn't even more her mouth to speak. Her mind was absolutely blank. Her heart started to race in her chest and her body went into certifiable shock. "What? I don't understand!" She gasped, looking nothing but surprised at the news. "How is Maisie yours?" She stood up and looked back and for the between the little girl and now her father? They looked so similar and they did have similar personality traits. "Who's her mother?" Not Alice. Please oh Lord, anyone but Alice. She had this uncontrolled animosity towards her and she felt if Alice and he had a child together, they would have a bond that they would never have. "And why isn't she living with you?"  
  
"Let me answer one question at a time?"  
  
Sydney nodded obediently.  
  
Unwillingly for the second time that day, Vaughn started on his second story. "About seven years ago, I was working in the Agency as a rookie and I met this girl, Jeanette Salve. We were both going through the same training and everything and we had-we had a lot in common." Vaughn inhaled deeply and felt the pain soar through his eyes. He reached forward to grab Sydney's hand and she gave them, willingly. A rush of heat started to pass through their bodies.  
  
He saw the beautiful woman standing before him. She was striking with her long black hair and olive toned skin. She was perfectly toned and stood gracefully at all times. She was absolutely beautiful. "Well, we hit it off and were going out." He paused for a moment, reliving moments of their dates, "We fell in love. She was my first love." Now he entered into the part that he had been dreading. Telling Sydney about loving another woman was territory enough for one lifetime but for the second time? At first, it was Alice and now Jeanette? He sighed heavily and continued. "We had been going out for something like two and a half years we found out that she was pregnant."  
  
Tears had sprung to her eyes unexpectedly and she wished them away. This was the love of her life talking about getting another woman pregnant. She unintentionally tightened all the muscles in her body but managed to keep a straight face, even though Vaughn was no longer looking her. He had chosen to stare down at their joined hands. "We had barely been in the office a few months, barely done a few field ops and then all of the sudden, we were faced with a baby. I mean, it definitely wasn't planned. Now, working for the Agency was difficult enough but to be pregnant and working for the Agency? And plus, she was being sent undercover for three years over in Guyana. There was a drug ring there and she had some inside details that could've really helped. We talked about it for a long time. We came to decision that she was not going to abort the pregnancy or tell Devlin that she couldn't go on the mission."  
  
"Devlin. Devlin. Devlin." Maisie beamed at the way the words fell off her lips. It was a funny little word that she had grown to love very quickly. She was still sitting proudly on Weiss's knee, as he attempted to tickle her while she spout little toddler phrases. Most of it were little questions or just random bits of information that she felt like staying.  
  
Vaughn acknowledged his little girl with a sad little smile. "We both knew that I couldn't raise the child on my own. I was barely capable of handling myself, let alone a baby. And with constantly going in and out of the country. Besides, it wasn't safe for us. About six months in, one of her contacts turned on her and she was instantly put in danger. And I-I was in danger too. This man was so dangerous and was wanted. He was like Sloane" His eyes looked quickly at the little girl dancing up and down on Weiss's knee. She was the most beautiful creature known. Every movement was more perfect than the last. "So, we decided on adoption. But again, because to the Agency, we had to go through a CIA hospital and figure out how to do this safely. After Jeanie gave birth, we started to go through the proper motions to give our little girl up for adoption." He took a moment to glance at his immobile sister, as if he wasn't sure if he should continue the story or not. "We hated the idea of leaving her with complete strangers and we figured we could at least watch her a little bit and see her grow."  
  
A long pause filled the space for a moment and then Sydney quickly jumped in. "How did she end up with Isabelle?" If she had strength enough, she would have gotten to her feet and start to pace but somehow, she couldn't even move. Her body felt stiff and she honestly felt like she had been hit hard with something. "It just can't be a coincidence ." There were no such things as coincidences in their world.  
  
"I lied to my husband. I told him that I had a daughter from a previous relationship and Maisie was my daughter. Michael went undercover or whatever it is you spies do and left her at an adoption agency under a different name. I went in, I adopted her. End of story." She whipped around with all the ferocity of an ice princess. Her eyes held enough pain to last three lifetimes. Every movement was stark and brash. She walked strongly over to the bed and held Sydney's eyes with her frosty gaze. She had the same trademark wrinkles above her eyebrows. "David has no idea about Maisie."  
  
Sydney let go of Vaughn's hands for a moment and stood up. "You and Jeanie? And then Maisie and then David?" She looked to Isabelle for reassurance of getting the name right and received a curt nod. "Yes, David and Isabelle?" Her head ached with the new information. She started to pace slightly, occasionally glancing at Isabelle or Vaughn, who both looked equally pained and panicked. Nothing in this world could have prepared her for this. This was absolutely shocking. As she started to work on putting the pieces back together, she stopped abruptly. "But wait a minute." She did some quick math in her head. "If the op was only suppose to be three years, where's Jeanette now?" 


	13. His Sister's Keeper

"The official answer is that she's still undercover but hasn't checked in recently." Vaughn responded coldly. Flashbacks of Kendall standing in the middle of the Joint Task Force Op and stating that Jeanie's case was to be closed until further notice. He remembered the pain surging through his system. He remembered the four weeks that followed that he spent locked away with nothing but reports to analyze and booze to drink. Never in a million years did he think that he would be able to get over her. He just felt numb from all the pain. Every once in a while, he would find something that reminded her. He would smell her perfume or hear someone laugh like her or something. She haunted him.  
  
"And your answer?" Sydney gripped her forehead as the swelling pain of a migraine started to threaten itself.  
  
"I think she's dead." Vaughn said.  
  
Somehow, she managed to settle back down onto the bed. Her body was still as pulled up as ever but something was different with her. She was trying to internalize everything and failing to no avail. Her eyes were wide with the new information and she kept glancing back and forth between Vaughn and Maisie. Her mind was absolutely racing with the thoughts and she couldn't have formed a coherent sentence, even if she tried. Finally, after a few moments, she sighed, "She's beautiful."  
  
Isabelle looked at Sydney with the most unreadable eyes. "She's more Michael than Jeanette. Michael wanted to keep her but it was that Jeanette that decided it was best for them to get rid of her! She planned this from the beginning just to wrap him around her finger! She was a horrible human being!" She finally snapped, throwing her arms up in the air in absolute frustration. She glared at Michael and kept the eye contact as she walked around the bed to gather the toddler in her arms. Her arms swept around Maisie, despite her adamant protests and started towards the door.  
  
"How can you say that? After all that Jeanie and I did for you? You still think that she was that much of a witch? We gave you the child that you wanted so badly!" Vaughn hissed after her. "You volunteered to take her in!"  
  
"And I had to lie to my husband about it! That little secret cost me my marriage!"  
  
"Then you should have told David the truth!"  
  
"I took in my brother's child that he had with his girlfriend? I'm sorry Michael, but that doesn't exactly sound good in the papers!" And with that huff, she walked out of the room.  
  
Silence took over as the agents looked about the room at each other. No one knew exactly what to say at that particular moment. Vaughn knew how his older sister got. She got into these little moods when something that shook her from her normal routine. She was set in her ways. She just needed her space and to cry this out before she would able to talk to anyone rationally again. So, he sighed and crossed his arms decidedly. "Don't worry about Isabelle."  
  
Sydney sat in absolute horror. There were so many secrets hidden in this family and Vaughn didn't even know the half of them, or at least she assumed. She knew for an almost fact that he didn't know about Claire and Samuel. This made her family look good. But she had no idea how to cope with the fact that Vaughn had a child with someone else. This was a difficult fact for her to deal with. She kept wanting to open her mouth and say something but nothing appropriate came to mind.  
  
"Where's your Daddy, Maisie?" Weiss whispered to the little girl innocently. He was still bouncing her up and down on his knee, much to her delight.  
  
"Daddy isn't talking to Mommy anymore." She shrugged simply. This girl was absolutely brilliant for her age. "I aheard him and he sayed to the phone that he found out Mommy's secret and he was moving out."  
  
This didn't go unheard by Vaughn. This all made sense. Isabelle never resented their decision before but if David had figured it out and threaten to leave her, then the world might as well end that evening. David meant the world to her and if he left, Vaughn had no idea what she would do. She was certainly capable of enough. With the little energy remaining in his legs, he jumped and ran towards his sister's bedroom. This was all too familiar for them. Isabelle would fall apart at the seams and the Vaughn would come running to glue the pieces back together.  
  
She was sitting down on her bed when she saw Vaughn enter the doorway. "You should stay in bed."  
  
"David left you?"  
  
Since he's been gone I ain't been the same  
  
I carry the weight like an ol' ball and chain  
  
Guess it's all meant to be... for love to cause me misery  
  
"David left me. He found out about Maisie, panicked, and left. He couldn't stand that I lied to him after all these years." Isabelle sighed and turned her eyes away from the door. She looked so frail sitting there with her younger brother looking on from the doorway. "He said that he needed some time to think this out. Instead of him leaving, though, I left. I took Maisie and we went through Europe for a while and then ended up back at the house."  
  
Vaughn smiled slightly, "That's why your accent is so heavy."  
  
She returned the sad little smile. "That's why my accent is so heavy."  
  
Vaughn entered the room silently and sat down next to her. Without speaking, they wrapped their arms around each other and just sat there for a while. There were no words that were needed at that particular moment. They just needed to be.  
  
A/N:  
  
Sorry this is so short but hopefully I got the formatting fixed!! 


	14. Into The Darkness

Thanks for all the reviews!!! I redid chapter 12 and 13 with all the answers to the Maisie saga!  
  
The house was so quiet. It felt like everything had settled and nothing was moving. Two out of the three bedrooms were filled with their visitors but she was still downstairs, unable to move from absolute heartache. It hurt to breath. Her eyes starred into the little glass sitting in her hand. This wasn't like her to drink. She hated the taste but this was the only thing to numb away the pain that had crept into her heart. She swirled around the thin liquid in her hand as she starred into harder, searching for the answers. "Why did you have to leave me?" She wanted to ask but knew she would only be talking to the darkness. He was gone, forever. There was no bringing him back and the only thing that could ever replace him was the empty void that filled her heart.  
  
"There was nothing we could do about it, my sweet." He would reply, kissing her on the top of her head before giving her a loving squeeze. He was the most gorgeous man alive. He was the only man that had ever stolen her heart and she barely had said it to him.  
  
"Yes, we could have!" She exclaimed loudly, almost upsetting the drink in her hand. "We could have done a thousand things! We could have escaped to the States and taken up life there."  
  
His image moved gracefully to a nearby couch and sat down, "And then what? Live as different people? Lead different lives? I was very content with who I was, Claire."  
  
She sighed in frustration, "I know you loved your job, Samuel but they took you away from me and then-and then they recruited me."  
  
His eyes would nearly bug out of his head. "They recruited you?"  
  
"MI-5 and then seconded to MI-6 from time to time." She repeated the facts, nodding her head up and down. "I'm living there under a cover name so no one will know that I was involved with you. I can't even be Claire Vaughn anymore. They don't even know if I can stay with my family or anything! Everything's a mess now, Samuel." A slight trace of a British actress started to show through. She gave herself a moment before continuing. "I'm living with Tom now. He's showing me the ropes."  
  
"Tom's a good man. He taught me everything I know."  
  
"And Zoe's been amazing."  
  
"Zoe is amazing." He agreed. "Tell any of them that if you ever need a blessed thing. They love you like you were one of their own."  
  
She harshly corrected, "I am now."  
  
His head bobbed in agreement. "They used to beg me for details about us. None of them had a social life at all and so, I was it. I was the form of entertainment. G-d Claire, they love you."  
  
She contemplated this for a moment, seeing his form standing in front of her. "How did they kill you?" She ignored the little voice screaming in her head that she was talking to someone that wasn't even there.  
  
And I know that it's only in my mind  
  
That I'm talking to myself and not him  
  
And although, I know that his is blind  
  
But still I say, there's a way for us  
  
I love him but everyday I'm learning  
  
All my life, I've only been pretending!  
  
His form smiled sadly, "You know you shouldn't know. It's better this  
way."  
  
She snapped back, aloud, "It's not better this way! You're dead."  
  
"This is our destiny."  
  
She snapped out of her dream to shout into the darkness, "This isn't our destiny! I was not meant to be alone." She didn't even know that the salty tears had started to drip from her eyes. "I can't do this alone! I don't want to wake up alone anymore!" She started to shout into the darkness, disturbing the rest of the inhabitants. 


	15. Words That Burn

Hey UKHuneyB: Not only am I an ALIAS addict but now I'm completely hooked on MI-5!! Claire is actually based on Helen, that girl that got killed in the second or third episode. Also, I was stuck for a girl's name, so that's how Maisie got her name! Bravo for picking that up! Keep that in mind as I might use references from THAT show in this!!  
  
Okay, I split this chapter in half, so bear with me!  
  
This had to be the worst day in the world. There was no way that this could get any worse than this. The wake had been absolutely beautiful or as beautiful as a wake can be. And the funeral was even more beautiful. There were beautiful flowers everywhere. There were stargazer lilies, Felicity Vaughn's favorite. People came from all over to pay their respects to the beloved lady from the top of the hill. More salty tears were spread over as Vaughn's mother was laid to rest. It was the most peaceful burial the world had ever witnessed. The service was done in both English and French and those who attended returned to the Vaughn estate for a quiet meal. Vaughn and Sydney were joined at the hip, constantly in contact with each other, by either their hands or eye contact. Weiss and Maisie were practically inseparable. The little girl had taken a liking to the man that she referred to as Uncle Eric. And at their heels, Isabelle stood a proud 'mother.' There was something that happened though. Something between Isabelle and Weiss that went not unnoticed by Vaughn and Sydney. They seemed to always be near each other and conversing in low tones. Sydney suspected a budding romance but Vaughn adamantly denied that his best friend and older sister may be becoming more than friends. Claire had stayed to the back of the crowd, not making a big fuss. The child that loved to make noise and love life seemed to have the life drained from her. No one talked about the night before that she awoke the inhabitants of the house by her screaming into the darkness about waking up alone and still loving 'him.'  
  
Vaughn had rushed down the stairs, pulling on a t-shirt as he ran. His mind could only think of horrible images that could await him downstairs. Sydney was right behind him, her body tense and ready for anything. But it was Vaughn that made it down the stairs first. His light feet rushed him over the hard wood floors and into the foyer. The emerald globes searched for any disturbances. None. There was absolute silence for anther moment and then a heart wrenching sob broke through the darkness. Vaughn reached around into the living room to throw on the light. His heart nearly broke in two at the sound of the sob. He had heard it only a few times but recognized it clear enough. His hand groped for the light switch that quickly illuminated the room. There was his beautiful sister, curled up on the couch with a drink in one hand and tears streaming down her face. "Claire?"  
  
She turned her focus away from the picture wall in front of her. The sobs stopped at the sound of her name and instead of a fragile voice, a harsh tone reached out. "He's dead, Michael. He worked for the same people you worked for and they killed him." The light bulb was dimming so the room was filled in an antique lighting. Years were added onto her face but lean muscle lines were also added.  
  
Vaughn slowly made his way into the room. "Who's dead?" His voice cracked with concern. Without making a sound, he crept into the room, his brow wrinkled in concern for his dear baby sister.  
  
"And now," She continued as if she didn't hear him, "they won't even tell me how he died." She licked her lips as she swallowed another gulp. The liquor tasted cruel over her mouth. "I know everything else but how he died."  
  
Caution embraced him as he slowly made his way towards her. For a split moment, he glanced back to the doorway and saw Sydney standing there. He quickly motioned for her to go back, which she did reluctantly. This wasn't another family drama that the world needed to see. He reached the couch and sat down at the opposite end, pulling his feet on the couch and starring in absolute confusion. "Who died, Claire?" His voice begged again.  
  
Her blue eyes were cold now. There was no life or emotion left in them anymore. She turned her body to face Vaughn, their feet almost touch. "Samuel Jenkins. Ranking field agent for MI-5. Killed in the line of duty some six and a half weeks ago." She took another drink of her poison and licked her lips. "Do you want some?" She now focused on the glass in her hand. "It tastes bloody awful but it does do the trick, I assume."  
  
Vaughn shook his head no, "Why were you involved with an agent?" He didn't know whether to be hurt, angry, upset, or feel any emotion at all. He forbade dating an agent for both of his sisters. He knew nothing good could come of this.  
  
She rolled her eyes, "Oh brother, dearest. I forgot to tell you. I was screwing an agent. Tsk. Tsk. I went back on yours and Maman's precious rule. But wait, aren't you an agent and aren't you sleeping with her?" Her words burned like poison and she refused to raise her eyes to meet her brother's. This wasn't her talking. This was the liquor.  
  
"I'm a hypocrite." He answered bluntly. "But sometimes, it's worth the risk. In my case, my love for Sydney was worth the risk."  
  
"Hell and damnation." She whispered. "Love is never worth the risk. Hell and damnation to me."  
  
Vaughn was taken back by this. He had never heard such harsh words out of baby sister's mouth. He knew she was aching inside but knew not what she was aching of. He reached forward to touch her leg in a comforting sort of way when she hissed. "Don't touch me. Don't even come near me." Her voice was low and raspy.  
  
He instantly retracted his hand and looked hurt. "How did you meet Samuel?"  
  
Her entire tone changed. "It doesn't matter."  
  
His brow was still furrowed in worry and his eyes were downcast and examining the wrinkles of the sofa. He absolutely had no clue what to think. "Then let's talk about something that *does* matter." He paused for a moment before continuing, "Do you know his stats?"  
  
Statistics. They were run over and over again in his head. They were the last thing she thought about before she went to bed and the first thing every morning. It was safe to say her life revolved around his former. "Born January 24, 1966 in London, England. Recruited in March of 1985 by a Mr. Jonathan Paine. Case number is-was HDD-IE-4830482." She paused after each fact, as though she was going through the facts of an index card. "He was trained in martial arts, surveillance, high risk retrieval, firearms, driving techniques, pursuit and evasion, and linguistics. He spoke Spanish, French, Japanese, Russian, and German. Killed in September of 2002."  
  
He was impressed. Grant it, he knew the same facts about Sydney but he would never admit that. Her case number was USS-CI-2300844. She knew more languages than he cared to count. Her training included martial arts, surveillance, high risk retrieval, firearms, driving techniques, pursuit and evasion, linguistics, pilates, and theatrical arts. And to top it all off, she had an R01 molar extraction. As his mind drifted through this, he came to the sudden and brash realization. "How do you know his stats?" That was confidential information and only security cleared agents could access such files. His brain stopped. No, there was no way that she could be. She wouldn't do that to him or the family. She would never. "When were you recruited?"  
  
"I'm not." She answered simply.  
  
"Bull. There's no way you'd be privy to all of that information, unless he told you, which I highly doubt. So, I'll ask you one more time Claire, when were you recruited?"  
  
"I. Was. Not. I. Am. Not. A. Freaking. Spy." She emphasized each word. She was officially jaded now from both heartache and good alcohol. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm putting my mother into the ground tomorrow and would like to be sober for it. Good night." She rose and stumbled slightly. Vaughn instantly jumped up and tried to steady her. But being the stubborn child that she was, she instantly brushed him off. "I'm fine. I told you not to touch me." Steadying herself, she walked out of the room in her nightgown, flowing in all its white glory behind her.  
  
"Claire, wait." He cried as she started to walk up the stairs. There were so many unresolved questions. "We're not done here."  
  
"The hell we are." She spat back at him, not bothering to turn around to face him. "I'm going up to bed."  
  
"We need to finish this, Claire!" He shouted again. This time he followed her up the stairs. She moved quickly and practically bolted down the hallway and firmly slammed the door behind her.  
  
Vaughn followed her, not being able to move as fast as he used to, and just as she was in arms' reach, he found a door being slammed in his face. He reached his hand up and firmly knocked. "Claire! Open the door! Claire!" It was a paternal tone that took over. He banged hard again. "G-ddamn it, Claire! Open the door! Open the door!" He shouted into the heavy cedar door.  
  
There was no answer from the other side. She kept her silence as she sat on her bed, annoyed that her nightly ritual was disturbed. She heard her brother's voice being blasted through her door and ittook all the strength she had not to snap back at him.  
  
Finally, after what seemed like an absolute eternity, Vaughn dropped his head and his hand and decided to retire back to his bedroom. He opened the door slowly and saw Sydney sitting up in bed with the lamp on. "She's definitely the stubborn one of the group." He answered her questioning looks.  
  
"You're pretty stubborn yourself, honey." She smiled slightly, "Come back to bed."  
  
Vaughn took one more fleeting look back towards his sister's room and sighed heavily. "I don't understand what's wrong."  
  
"Well, what happened?" She asked, moving the sheets aside for him to climb in. The two of them had been curled up tightly in the small twin bed.  
  
He reached the bed and laid down gingerly, letting his head hit the pillow and addressed the ceiling. "My sister was involved with an MI-5 agent and now, I think she was recruited." He admitted and felt uncertainty rise within him.  
  
Sydney laid back down and rested her head on his shoulder. "Why do you think that?"  
  
She quickly dialed the number into the little black cell phone that she held so close in her hands.  
  
A man working half a world away answered his dearly beloved cell phone, the Caller ID blank. "Yes?"  
  
"Secure line?" She hazarded to ask.  
  
The man laughed a reply. "G-d Claire, you really are new at this. Of course it's secure line." The jolliness was drained out of his voice a moment later, "What's going on?"  
  
"My brother's onto me." She whispered quickly. "When do I leave?"  
  
"Day after tomorrow, darling. Don't worry, you'll be fine. You brother can suspect all he wants but he has no proof. As long as he had no proof, you're fine. You're gonna be fine, Claire." The familiar British accent filled the line, "We need to end this phone conversation, darling. I don't want him to suspect anything more." And a certain blonde haired gentleman hung up the phone. 


	16. Pride of Lions

A/N: So, I'm sorta closing the door on the Isabella/Maisie part. This is pretty much the last that you'll see directly of them. The next chapter starts the missions (yay!) and more confusion with Claire, MI-5, the blonde hair gentleman, and of course, the missing/presumed dead Jeanette. And you thought your life was complicated!  
  
The door closed behind the last guest on the day following the funeral. "The house seems so quiet again." Claire remarked as she glanced about the room. Her voice was hushed as her eyes turned back to the dinning room table that they were all seated at. Her voice seemed to echo throughout the silence and each member of the room nodded their head slightly in agreement.  
  
"Yeah, it does." Sydney turned to look over to Vaughn who looked emotionless. She placed her fork down off of its salad and touched his arm affectionately. He looked towards her and smiled softly. They were each lost in their own thoughts with different worries, different idea swarming around in their minds. No one could tell what the other way thinking.  
  
"It's weird without Mom around." Isabelle said soberly. She fondly remembered how her mother was always floating around the house, singing in two languages. She took a small sip of her wine and continued to think. It was painful to talk about her. They were so close and so much alike in so many ways. Without making much noise, she got up and walked to the old record playing gathering dust in the corner. Feeling all eyes upon her, she flipped through her mother's old albums and found one of her favorites. The record was blown free from its dust and placed gingerly on the turntable. With a small scratch of the needle, Felicity Vaughn came alive again, in the sound of music. Her black skirt flared about her as she found her seat again, sharing a shy smile with the other male at the table.  
  
I can hear music.  
  
I can hear music  
  
The sounds of the city, baby  
  
Seem to disappear whoa  
  
I can hear music  
  
Sweet sweet music  
  
Whenever you touch me baby.  
  
Whenever you're near.  
  
"Mom always loved to have music playing. She wouldn't let a day go by without us listening to at least two records. She always believed music soothed the soul." Vaughn whispered, sounding more hoarse than intended and felt his heart swell with absolute pride over his angelic mother. "G-d Syd, she would have loved her." Without realizing it, his foot started to tap to the music and his body swayed in a euphoric state of mind.  
  
Sydney leaned back into her chair slightly. "I wish I could've met her."  
  
"Yeah, I know." He reached for her hand and held it tightly. "She had this sense about her. Like, she knew how to fix everything and anything and you couldn't keep a thing from her." He laughed lightly as he remembered something and his eyes danced with excitement. "She-she even knew that I fell for someone at work before I did."  
  
Sydney tilted her head in amusement. "How did you not know that you were falling for someone at work?" She answered coyly.  
  
Vaughn smiled even brighter, "Apparently, I talked a lot about this new girl at the office and every conversation I said was based around 'the new girl.' Finally, after I think our third conversation, my mother told me to 'just ask the new girl out' or she was going to kill me. And never doubt the words of a French mother."  
  
Sydney laughed slightly, taking Vaughn's hands into her own. "I wouldn't have put it passed her."  
  
There was a type of soothing silence that coated over the room. No one was interested in anything but what was going on in their own mind. It was that type of sobering silence that kept them all sane. Sydney and Vaughn sat next to each other with Maisie and Claire sitting at the heads of the table. Isabella and Weiss sat next to each other on the opposite side, with their backs to the kitchen. Vaughn was lost in his own thoughts of how wonderful his family was.  
  
Felicity Vaughn was so beautiful. She had evergreen colored eyes, darker than his and beautiful blonde/brown hair that was always tied back away from her pale completion. His mother had a tiny waist and was always cooking something she had learned from her grandmother over in France. Her laugh could fill the room and her perfume was the sweetest scent in the world. She was the most beautiful woman in the world or so he thought until a little over a year ago, when he met Sydney. But going back to his original thought train, he, his sisters, and his mother were all okay. They survived through everything, even Vaughn entering the CIA. But he barely knew his father and Isabelle was the same way but Claire. Claire was just baby when he died. At his funeral, she was completely clueless, walking around with a microphone, singing traditional French and American songs. She was sweet. He loved both of his sisters more than anything.  
  
The ringing of a phone cut through the silence. "I'll get it." Isabella offered and stood up, taking her plate in her hand. "I'm finished anyway." Her black skirt swirled about her knees as she pushed back the oak chairs. The open doorway to the French country kitchen was directly behind her with the phone attached to wall. "Allo?" She began her conversation in French but promptly switched to English, turning her back on her family and curling her body tight as she listened to voice on the phone. "Yes, I did. Sure. Four days ago. You did? Oh-oh-ok. I-um. You don't? Of course not. Yeah, I know. That's why this-. Oh. Ok. I'll be in touch." And she hung up the phone. Without even looking, she walked into the kitchen, standing directly to the sink and placed her dish down. Every move was perfectly practiced and it was as if she had done it a thousand times before. Finally, she placed her palm down on either side of the sink and pressed her weight into her hand, leaning over the sink, inhaling deeply. She closed her eyes and felt her pulse race through her.  
  
Weiss had kept his eyes on Isabella the entire time. This wasn't noticed by Maisie talking loudly about her new doll with Claire or by Vaughn and Sydney, who were finishing their meals. His eyes didn't move from her form and felt his own freeze. He watched her shoulders hunch over and her voice shake with uncertainty. He didn't even miss the worried glance she shot almost over her shoulder. And he saw her collapse over the sink. He grabbed his dish in his hand, pushing his chair aside. It had been a long time since someone had moved him this way. He couldn't remember the last time his heart swelled like this.  
  
"Baby, why don't you run up and get our folders and I'll help clear the table, leave it Eric." Sydney chirped rather cheerfully as she saw Weiss stand. She apparently had been paying attention. She reached forward, her hand out expectantly for this plate.  
  
"No!" He cried defensively. "You go with Vaughn for your briefing and I'll do this. I don't mind." He responded unconvincingly. "Honest."  
  
"Eric Weiss willing to do domestic work? The world is coming to an end." Vaughn replied, standing up. He looked once back Weiss and then at his plate and then back again. "You sure, man?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah I'm sure." He said again. He reached for all the plates on the table. He was completely turning domestic.  
  
"Alright, I'm going to start packing my things. My flight leaves early tomorrow morning." Claire spoke, the pain no longer evident from her voice. She was over what had happened last night and felt purer because of it. She knew what she had done was right. Her brother knew what she did and then she made contact with her contact, the blonde hair gentleman, and then with MI-5. There were secrets that she had a feeling in her gut that would be told by the end of this family interlude. She smiled and reached for her plate.  
  
"I got it, Claire." Weiss said with the same thrust as before. Claire shot him a look to ask if he was sure and he nodded in agreement. He smiled slightly and watched as Claire disappeared behind Vaughn and Sydney.  
  
Weiss waited a moment before turning around, ignoring the little girl sitting at her place at the table, gripping a worn teddy bear in one hand and a fork too large for her hand in the other. Her mouth wrapped around a large piece of chicken as she held her fork at an odd angle. Her eyes were wide as she watched the man walk towards her mother. She thought absolutely nothing of this and continued her eating. His body turned and he walked towards Isabella, still standing over the sink, inhaling and exhaling deeply. "Isabella?" No response. "Isabella?" Finally, his voice reaching low and sexy range, "Belle?' He didn't even realize how close he was standing to her or how wonderful she smelled.  
  
She barely glanced over her shoulder but knew Weiss was there. Her vision was blotchy from unfallen tears. "Hi." Her back remained towards the agent.  
  
"Hi yourself."  
  
She stood up straight and took her left hand in her right now, starring down at it intently.  
  
"Who was that on the phone?" Weiss hazarded asking.  
  
She pulled the ring off her finger, setting it down on the white linoleum. "My ex-husband, David Santoria. He told me the divorce was final and he was sending my copy of it." Her hands went back to the counter top and she starred out the small window in front of her. "I'm Isabella Vaughn, again." There was a type of freeing tone to her voice. "I'm Ms. Vaughn again." She stayed that way for a moment, just starring out the window, but something changed suddenly. She saw Weiss's eyes looking at her with a look. "And I don't know what to do anymore. I have no where to go. And it's all because of my brother's daughter and me losing my other daughter. He couldn't take looking at me, or so he said. He wasn't there for me or for Maisie at all." She knew she wasn't making any sense. "I was pregnant a few months ago and then, there were complications and something happened. She died. I miscarried in the sixth month. My little girl, my Zoe died within me. G-d, it burned and it hurt my heart so badly I never thought I would recover. A few months after, David and I got into a fight about how I should snap out of it...how I had another daughter to look after and I said-I said that she wasn't mine. That she was Michael's. We started screaming, the both of us in tears. It lasted a few days and it ended me with packing my things and Maisie's and moving out of the house. David said that any one that would lie and keep their brother's bastard child for their own...he said that he couldn't live with me, let alone be married." She paused, feeling her body fly with relief.  
  
Weiss let his eyes drop and study a crack in the counter. "I'm so sorry." He managed to choke out after a moment.  
  
"It's okay." She managed to smile. "I've moved past it and I realized that I don't love David anymore. I haven't for a long time."  
  
She starred out the window for a time more and then was suddenly aware of how close he was standing, how hot his breath felt on the back of her bare neck, how much she longed to feel his touch around her waist.  
  
"Bella." He whispered huskily, using a newly found nickname for her.  
  
She turned around slowly, her hand naked of the one piece that had held her back. Her body nearly brushed against his as she moved, taking a step back against the counter top to ensure a millimeter between the two. She reached up and somehow, her hands found his clean shaven face and crept around to the nap of his neck. His hands found her waist, creeping around towards the small of her back, resting on the curve there. Their eyes met in the most cliché sounding ways but this was different. They reached closer and closer to each other, drawn to the other like some magnetic force that could only be explained by two lovers. Finally, seconds turned to minutes and minute to hours or at least that's what it felt like. Their lips finally met in the most ginger manner. It was a slow burning intensity that grew and made each brush of their lips more passionate. This, this sexual frustration that they both felt had been building for a while now. They now had a common thread with Sydney and Vaughn. Finally, their brains started to hum from lack of oxygen. They parted but kept their foreheads pressed together.  
  
"Bella." He whispered again, taking his lips to her neck.  
  
Her accent was at its heaviest. "Eric" moaned over her lips softly as he found a tender spot by her ear. A giggle emerged as he nipped the sensitive spot near her jaw. He finally retreated, looking at the beautiful woman before him. She inhale deeply and smiled the first real smile in a while. "That was a long time coming, wasn't it?"  
  
"Oh yeah." Weiss smiled and kiss her lips softly again.  
  
"And it doesn't bother you that I'm older than you are." She was always the logical one.  
  
He laughed, bring their bodies closer than before and said into her hair, "You're three months older than me, Bella."  
  
Her hands wrapped around his neck tightly and buried her head into his tailored suit and inhaled deeply. She felt so safe for the first time. She laughed slightly, "Yeah well. I just wanted to make sure about that one."  
  
"It's so beautiful out here!" Sydney exclaimed, lying back against the white wooden porch in the back of the house. "I don't know how you could ever leave here." She was sitting with Vaughn on the back steps of the porch with their black briefing folders pressed over their laps. "So beautiful."  
  
Vaughn was sitting very close to her, his eyes more focused on her than the strawberry and lavender fields before him. "You're so beautiful." He replied huskily and leaned forward to kiss her but she pulled back.  
  
"Is that your line to get me into bed?" She smiled rather coyly. Her eyes met his and she felt the smile reach over her face and spread to his.  
  
"Does it work?"  
  
A bigger smile reached over their face. He was about to kiss her when coughs started to overtake his body and he pulled away suddenly, finding it difficult to catch his breath.  
  
She wanted to say something rather bitchy or sarcastic at that moment but promptly decided against it. "Are you all right, baby?" She managed to whisper, not moving a muscle to help him.  
  
He nodded his head as he covered his mouth and felt his lung ache with the lack of oxygen. It was a buzz affect that hurt every moment that he couldn't breath. It was a long moment before the coughing subsided and he realized that he could breath again. His eyes had started to tear and he squeezed them tightly to vanish the blurriness. He licked his lips and cleared his throat, "Ahem. Well, I'm fine now." He moved to kiss Sydney's forehead but stopped at the sight of her face wrinkles in concern. "Baby, I promise. I'm fine." But she wasn't convinced. "I promise you." Sydney sighed heavily and looked towards her folder, starring down at the new information that she had to study dutifully. "It's almost under control. It should be under control by now. You'll take blood tonight and Weiss will send it off. It will be fine." Sydney sighed heavily again.  
  
"So let's talk about the missions." She replied, starring back at the folder. "Now, while you were off screaming at your sister, I received a phone call from my Dad. We're flip flopping."  
  
"Flip flopping?" Vaughn repeated as he glanced up from folder as he opened it. His brow was already creased in concern.  
  
"We're doing the nightclub first." She flipped through some pages and found a blueprint, alias, and mission specs. She started to ramble through her information, reciting it more for herself than for Vaughn.  
  
He wanted to ignore all of this information. Tomorrow he would have to say good-bye to his sisters and his daughter for another stretch of absence. Their visits were few and far between. He saw their tear stained faces and their mumbled French as he kissed each of their foreheads or cheeks. Maisie would say good-bye and offer a little bouquet of flowers or a hand drawn picture. Sydney and Weiss would stand off to the side, saying uncomfortable good-byes and trying not to stare at the intimate family moments.  
  
And he was right.  
  
"Are you sure you have to leave today?" Isabella queried as she helped tote the luggage down the steps. "One more day would be nice. You were barely here a week." She reached the car, slightly out of breath from carrying the heavier black bag, even though it did have wheels.  
  
Vaughn was bent over the trunk and simply perched down to grab it and fit it in with the rest of them. This was the last one. Putting it away, he groaned slightly, "Yeah, Izzy. I'm sure. We have to go." His eyes turned back to the trunk. "That the last of them?"  
  
Isabella nodded sadly. "Oh, Michael. Why do you have to go? It's so nice having you around the house." She watched him close the trunk with watchful eyes and as soon as he shut it, she lunged at him, embracing him tightly. Her arms were wrapped around him tightly and she felt as though she was losing grasp of her younger brother.  
  
The baby sister glided out of the house, carrying her own small luggage behind her. Her hazel eyes scanned the horizon as she sighed to herself. This was the hardest time home she had ever had. There were so many events that had happened that scarred her and the next few days were going to be difficult. Lord, they were going to be difficult.  
  
Vaughn's eyes remained closed for a moment as he tried to memorize her scent. Fresh lavender and baby powder. Something forced him to look up and there, standing in all her glory, was his baby sister, dressed to the nines in a long camel colored trench coat. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and she held her black bag behind her. She looked she stepped out of a movie from the 1940's. "You heading out?" He asked, looking up. Her attention was grasped away from her brother and the other's way snapped away from the horizon.  
  
"You're leaving too?" Isabella gasped and let go of part of his shoulder and opened her arms to her brother.  
  
Claire made her way down the steps and to the top of the gravel driveway. "I'm afraid so. But I'll be back to visit soon." *If all goes well tonight.* She quickly found herself wrapped in her sister's smothering embrace and her brother's rather awkward one.  
  
Sydney and Weiss had met each other in the foyer before heading outside. They knew it was time to get going. It was only a few hours before they needed to be in India and infiltrate that nightclub. Weiss was balancing his duffle bag in his hand and Maisie on his hip. The little girl had taken quite the emotional attachment to him. They met up and Sydney smiled, holding her purse in hand. "Hello, Miss Maisie." The girl grinned and Weiss playfully scowled. "And Mr. Eric." And his face brightened. "You ready to go?"  
  
"Why does Uncle Eric have to leave Tante Sydney?" The innocent child had started to call Sydney 'Aunt Sydney.'  
  
Sydney leaned forward and kissed Maisie's head. "We all have to go, sweetie pie. We just do." Now, Maisie wasn't entirely satisfied with this answer but wormed her way out of Weiss's grasp. Without so much as a word, she skipped out of the door to find her mother, aunt, and uncle. As soon as the screen door slammed, Sydney smirked sarcastically, "Emotional attachment, Agent Weiss? I believe someone has fallen for someone." Her voice rang out in a sing song.  
  
Weiss turned from white to scarlet in record time. His eyes grew as large as saucers and his mouth stopped moving. "I-uh-wha-no-Bella and I-"  
  
"Bella?" It was the same reaction that she had when she caught Marshall referring to Ms. Boeman as 'Carrie.' She gave that unbelieving look.  
  
"Isabella and I are just friends."  
  
She shot him another unbelieving look.  
  
"Isabella and I are just friends." He repeated a little more firmly before pushing open the door to find the three Vaughn children standing by the black car.  
  
Sydney followed, smiling a bit to herself but immediately reminded herself to snap out of it. The mood of this day was too somber for her to be smiling. She pressed open the screen door and felt the sunrise radiate down on her face. It warmed her immediately. Without so much as a sound, she hurried down the steps and stood aside the clamor of the siblings saying their good-byes. They were all standing close and conversing in low tones. Claire was the first one to turn away and smile at Sydney. "It was so nice meeting you, Claire." Sydney spoke up first.  
  
Without words, she hugged Sydney tightly and Claire whispered, "Take good care of Michael. He loves you. Don't let anything to happen to him, please." Her whisper became tinted with an accent but the message was still there. "I don't know what Izzy and I would do without him." She pulled back looked Sydney in the eyes and nodded, eyes wide, hoping for agreement.  
  
"I swear I won't let a thing happen to him." Sydney reassured and found herself in another hug. "I swear."  
  
Claire pulled back, gathered her things once more and looked around. She found her little niece and pulled her into her arms. "Salut, Mademoiselle Maisie."  
  
"Salut Tatie!" Maisie responded. "When are you coming back?" A child's innocence.  
  
She cleared her throat uncomfortably and couldn't find it in her to meet Maisie's eyes. "As soon as I can, sweetie."  
  
"You promise?" She insisted.  
  
"I promise.  
  
"Good!"  
  
Claire set the child down on the ground and she immediately started to mill around. "I really must be off. My plane leaves soon." She barely uttered anther word before disappearing into the green little car parked behind the black one. She waved once more before she slammed the door shut and threw her luggage in the passenger seat. One more wave and she started to back out of the driveway. One more moment and the car started to drive out of sight.  
  
Sydney found Vaughn and wrapped her arms around his neck and his arms were wrapped around her waist. They waved slightly and Vaughn rested his head atop hers. "There goes my baby sister." He whispered barely aloud.  
  
Standing slightly behind the happy couple, Isabella found Weiss and her lips found his. This was dangerous territory for her. Making out with her new flame right behind her younger brother. But she didn't know when she would see him again.  
  
"Mommy? Is Oncle and Tante Sydney leaving too?" An innocent voice rang out.  
  
"Maisie, I told you I have to leave, sweetheart." Vaughn turned around without even thinking to find his sister in his best friend's arms. There was a moment of absolute silence as Vaughn's eyes grew wide and Weiss and Isabella realized that they were caught. But no one moved. Isabella waited for Vaughn's reaction before she did a thing. At that moment, her heart seemed to have stopped. Meanwhile, Weiss was picturing Vaughn taking the 9mm that was strapped to his ankle and killing him with it on the spot. But none of that happened. Vaughn inhaled slowly and then his lips crept into a smile. "Well. I wondered when this was going to happen." Isabella breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. It was the first time she could breath in days. Vaughn obviously didn't feel this exact sentiment. "But Weiss, man. I swear, if you hurt you, I will kill you."  
  
Weiss turned bright red and felt his blood run cold. "Yeah, I know. I've seen you in action-"  
  
"And," Vaughn continued, "if I can't for some reason, I'll get Sydney to kick your ass."  
  
This made Weiss turn paler than ever. His chocolate eyes grew wider than before and he started to mumble incoherently.  
  
"Mommy?"  
  
Isabella unattached herself from her new lover and bent down to be at her daughter's level, "Yes, darling?"  
  
The little girl cocked her head to the side and looked at all three adults, "Why is Oncle going to kill Uncle Eric? And why is Tante Sydney going to kick his as-"  
  
"Maisie!" Isabella quickly jumped up but she realized her abruptness caused the child to pout. "Oncle is only joking and we don't that type of language in our house."  
  
"Oh." She replied thoughtfully and seemed to dwell on this for a moment. "So, words like sh-"  
  
"Maisie." Isabella answered a little firmer. "We don't use that language in our house."  
  
"Oh." She replied again before being piled into her mother's arms and receiving a kiss on the forehead.  
  
With a heavy heart, Vaughn started to turn back to the car. His emerald eyes scanned the horizon and found it perfectly cloudless. "We better get going, love."  
  
Sydney had followed his eye line and gotten lost in the world around her. "Yeah."  
  
Vaughn kissed his sister once more and his niece a few more times after that. His feet felt heavy and didn't want to drag himself into the car. But somehow, he managed it. Weiss shared one last passionate kiss with his new found girl despite her daughter's objections. His feet dragged along and slammed the door heavily behind him. Sydney gave one last squeeze before she filled into the car and soon, all was left was for Vaughn to turn the key ignition. With a heavy heart, the car started to pull away from the drive, leaving the picturesque scene of the oldest sister holding her adopted daughter bathing in the sunlight. 


	17. Hate To Say I'm Sorry

So, I was really upset that no one reviewed my last chapter. Maybe I'll get a few reviews for this one? I really hope so. There are only a few chapters to go!  
  
The thin air seemed to crackle in the van, parked away from the scene of the first op. Excitement seemed to be drummed into the air but maybe that was the pulsating techno beat from the club a few blocks away. Sydney's heart was already pounding hard in her chest as the adrenaline pushed through her veins. Her eyes couldn't help but stare at the shirtless Vaughn sitting not close enough to her. She watched as each breath he took rippled through his toned chest "Vaughn?"  
  
His eyes jumped up from his hands, holding a black leather jacket that he was studying. "What?" He asked sincerely. He was obviously thinking about something in depth and it was fairly obvious that he wasn't studying the stitching of the fine Italian leather jacket.  
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
He didn't even bother to respond. Without much thought, he took his hand to the inside of his elbow and found a piece of gauze taped over with white medical tape. Finding a small rippled edge, he ripped it off in one quick motion that would surely cause intense pain. He didn't even blink. "I'm fine." His voice was absolutely flat and void of emotion. The death was really paying a toll on him for the first time. This was real. And to make matters even worse, Sydney had drawn his blood while they were on their chattered plane, reminding him that he was dying. His eyes glanced away from Sydney for a moment and looked at his arm, with a small puncture wound in one of his blue veins covered by a small green bruise that was starting to seep over his pale skin.  
  
She shook her head, "That's not what I'm asking. Are. You. Okay?" She could honestly care less about his physical capabilities right now. All she cared about was his mental status. If they were captured or something, his mind would give out first if he wasn't prepared for this.  
  
He thought for a moment as he threw the jacket over his arms, covering the bruise on his arm. He knew what she was asking and it pained her to think that something was going to happen to him. And here, he was faced with two very distinct choices. He could lie and tell her that he was fine and everything was going to be okay or he could tell her the truth. "I'm gonna kill the son of a bitch killed my mother." Vaughn sneered as he straightened his coat and checked the clip in his gun. The second option seemed more fair.  
  
"I know, baby." Sydney whispered softly, placing her comm. link in her ear. "But you can't let that affect you tonight. I need to know-are you gonna keep your head in the game?"  
  
"Let's review for a moment." Weiss quickly cut in, sitting on the other side of Sydney with a headset on and a black folder sitting in his lap. It was agreed that Weiss would stay in the van and monitor security as Vaughn and Sydney made their way into the nightclub and have their meeting with Nikoli Venshenav, a former member of the KGB who was known to work with Irinia and Sark. He had agreed to cooperate with the CIA, as they threatened him with much blackmail towards the Russian government.  
  
Vaughn looked over at him for a moment and spat, "I know what the op is. We've been reviewing this since this morning! How much more preparation do we need?"  
  
Weiss didn't answer. He simply looked at Sydney, who nodded her head and moved closer to Vaughn. There were two other agents sitting in the van and they had turned towards their computer monitors but were still listening. "Vaughn, what's going on with you? You need to relax or else tonight's gonna be a disaster. You need to get your head in the game." She said rather forcefully and placed her hand atop of his, trying to soothe him.  
  
His eyes looked so full of pain when he looked up. "You know how upset you were with Sloane after Danny?"  
  
And that shut her up. He used her past love to thoroughly slap her across the face. She didn't know what to say to that and pulled her hands away. She looked away for a moment and responded, "Are you ready to go?"  
  
"Yeah." Vaughn hissed and stood up, securing the comm. link in his ear. They pulled the door open and jumped out of the van into the chilly Russian night.  
  
"Good luck." Weiss mouthed as he shut the door.  
  
The cold cut through Sydney's barely clad body. She wore the ugliest costume she had ever worn in her life. It was basically a white strip of fabric that was worn like a halter top and reached her waist, barely covering her breast. Her entire back and abdomen was exposed and the three inch piece of fabric (that resembled a lacy scarf thrown around her neck) was attached to a very short white pleated mini skirt. The ensemble was completed with white knee high boots or as she called them her "happy hooker boots." She wore a striking blonde wig that gave her a little more coverage on her back. Her honey brown eyes were now blue and she wore deep red lipstick. She was now Rifka Anni. She moved closer to Vaughn, who wrapped his arms around her, clearly much warmer than she.  
  
He took her into his arms and felt her snuggle closer. He was the luckier one of the two and thankfully got to wear a great deal more clothing. He wore an open leather jacket, void of a shirt beneath. His tight leather pants didn't give much as he walked down the street. His hair was tossed with gel and his beautiful green eyes were replaced with a deep aqua colored. Good-bye Michael Vaughn, hello Serge Telsevain.  
  
It only took him an instant to regret snapping at her. "Listen, I'm sorry." He spoke into her hair. He couldn't bear to go into this with a heavy heart and something on his chest. There was already something there that shouldn't have been there and it was making his breathing more difficult with each passing day.  
  
A sad little smile crossed her lips, "I know this is tough and sweetie, I understand. We're going to find who did this and they're going to pay. I promise."  
  
He nodded silently in agreement and pulled her a little closer, "You have goose bumps."  
  
"It's freezing out!" She exclaimed. "I really don't think it's fair that you have more clothes than me."  
  
Vaughn laughed lightly, "Let's be happy that I'm not wearing that outfit."  
  
"Touché!"  
  
The 'happy' couple made their way towards the trendy club full of people, begging the bouncer for their fifteen minutes in the club. Vaughn pushed his way to the front of the line, holding on Sydney's hand tightly. "She's a dancer and she wants to dance." His Russian was almost as sexy as his French.  
  
The bouncer, standing about 6'3" and 350 pounds with jet black hair and black Armani suit, smiled. "That may be true but will she dance with me?"  
  
Sydney stepped forward, pushing past Vaughn and put her hands on the bouncer's shoulder. "Only if you want be to, baby."  
  
The bouncer smiled, revealing a set of absolutely perfect teeth and moved the burgundy rope to allow them in. "I'll hold you up to that, baby."  
  
Sydney smiled and purred in agreement. Vaughn followed her in, wrapping his arms around her. "I hope you'll dance with me first."  
  
"Anything for you."  
  
The sight before them was like nothing they ever thought of. It was a large room with a large balcony outlining it. The walls were painted black with neon flashes of color everywhere. There was a bar that lined the back wall with enough people standing there to fill a small country. There were little stages in various parts of the room, where women were dancing, wearing more clothes than Sydney. There were lights flashing and a smoke machine filling the room. People were anywhere and everywhere. Most of them were drunk or high out of their minds. They were all dancing to the contagious techno beat that filled the club and deafened all that were in there. The club itself reeked of sex and alcohol. This club was like Studio 54. Sex, drugs, and rock and roll.  
  
"Okay, you'll be meeting Nik in the back room. He should be there with his little entourage, so you'll have to be careful." Weiss had told them before they left.  
  
"You know, I really don't think it's fair that you get to dance with the bouncer and not me." Vaughn shouted through the crowd.  
  
"What?" Sydney shouted back, unable to hear over the hard core techno beat that filled the room. She couldn't help but smile. Stopping in her tracks, she turned around to face her love, feeling very well aware that she was barely dressed. With all the seduction in the world, she pulled herself close to him, feeling what felt like hundreds of dancing bodies around her. She let his hands grope to her lower back and rest there for a moment. Laughing at little bit, she shouted in his ear, "Don't think I wore this outfit for you."  
  
They shared a laugh that seemed to be silent. Neither one could truly hear the other over the pulsating beat that seemed to take over both of their bodies. Their steps seemed to move in sync with the beat and they moved up towards a room, heavily guarded VIP backroom. People were everywhere and each man tried to dance with Sydney and each woman tried to catch Vaughn. No one seemed to care that the pair were holding hands and were obviously together. It was too much like the mission they had been on in Taipei.  
  
They reached the bouncer sooner than expected. He was bigger than the one outside and looked the agents over. Sydney stood, her chest pushed out and her hips pushed back. "What?" He snapped.  
  
"The music's slow, the drugs are slow, and I want to dance." She spoke the assigned phrase.  
  
The bouncer smiled and replied, "We'll have to talk to the deejay and work on that." Sydney smiled back, stepping forward slightly. "Nikoli is expecting you, Miss Anni." The bouncer moved aside and ushered Vaughn and Sydney into a posh room, filled with a large purple sofa, a few chairs, a large table piled high with shot glasses. A man, flocked with woman wearing less clothes than Sydney were sitting on the couch. They reeked of alcohol. Sydney walked in and mentally made a note of the two doors, the one she came in and the one all the way in the back. There must have been two other guards standing in the room, standing with their arms crossed over their chests and their guns proudly displayed.  
  
They waked in the room and a guard shut the door and locked it firmly behind them. Another mental note. Sydney was overcome with a strong sinking feeling about this but before Vaughn could open his mouth and say something to the woman sitting near Nikoli dressed in red, he felt a bag come over his head and cinch around his neck. The last thing he remembered was Sydney fighting as she suffered a similar fate.  
  
The room was cold and bare. How many times would she wake up in a room like this? But something about this was significantly different. Her eyes fluttered against the harsh darkness and saw two forms, hunched over. The nearest one, about two feet away, was awake and resting against the wall, nursing an injury. Her body was obviously weak and she quickly realized she must have been drugged. This feeling was all too familiar. It felt like a bad hangover. Well, maybe it wasn't direct drugs. Maybe it was because of all the 'stuff' that was going on in the club. Enough people smoking, you tend to get a little buzz. And she was definitely feeling the day after effects. Her mouth, crackled dry from dehydration, could barely audit the words she wanted to say. "V-Va-aughn."  
  
The close figure's head snapped up with more effort than intended. His body was absolutely aching. He had woken up a few minutes earlier and realized how much his body hurt. He must have been beaten by the shooting pains on his ribs and the obvious deformity of his left leg. The same feeling of the hang over sense flooded his sense too but he was a touch more coherent than Sydney. He knew that they were captured and that it was Sydney laying beside him. "Hey." He managed to whisper. "How're you doing?"  
  
"Where are we?"  
  
"I don't know." He responded simply, feeling his eyes drift away from his injuries and towards Sydney's. "Are you hurt?" He scooted over and tried to help her sit up. She winced as she put pressure on her left arm. "Yes, you are." Without even thinking, he tucked her closely in towards his body and let her head rested in his lap. His fingers stroked her hair, matted from sweat and dirt.  
  
She blinked a few more times as she tried to get her bearings. She tried to sit up again but Vaughn kept her down. He made shushing sounds as she tried to stay awake and make a mental inventory of her body. She inhaled deeply and felt her breath hitch slightly. Clearing her throat, she forced herself to sound stronger, "What happened?" Her voice was raspy and hoarse.  
  
Vaughn was suddenly grateful he had a few more moments than Sydney's to reflect on his events. For some reason, his thoughts were relatively clear. "I don't know. All I remember is that we made it into the room and then, everything went black." Taking a moment to swallow, he was happy with his decision to keep the other details to himself. The woman on the couch was so distinct that he couldn't help but keep her in the back on his mind. He couldn't forget the way her black hair cascaded over her shoulders or the genuine look of shock over her face. He couldn't help but remember the way his chest tightened up and his palms began to sweat. Or the tinny taste in his mouth. But in this moment, with Sydney curled up in his lap, he forced himself to concentrate.  
  
Startling both of them, the other person moved and sat up, looking around just as confused as the two others. The gender was unknown until they coughed and groaned slightly. It was obviously a woman. She groaned as she pushed her body off of the floor and craned her neck away from her body to look around. "Where are we?" She asked, squinting to make out the two other forms in the small and cramped room. It was probably half the size of a jail cell. The three agents (Sydney and Vaughn both assumed that the other woman was an agent considering that they were detained) were only about four feet away from each other.  
  
Sydney managed to sit up at the sound of the female's voice. Her blood ran cold and reached for Vaughn's hand. In the dim lighting, she could just barely make out the wide eyed boyfriend. She scouted closer and rested her forehead against his jaw line and felt his jaw tighten. His mouth was dry now and his tongue started to swell in his mouth. He recognized that voice. He had grown up with that voice and he could have sworn he left that voice behind in Fleury. "Claire?"  
  
"Michael?" 


	18. Never Ever Ever

He felt his eyes grow wide and his heart beat loudly as he started to ramble incoherently. "What? Claire? I don't understand! What the hell are you doing here?" He couldn't stand the sight of his sister bruised, beaten, and broken lying in a small huddle in the corner. Sydney pushed herself to that she sitting was sitting fairly upright. His body felt stiff and rigid.  
  
"Please." Claire dragged her limp body closer and found herself sitting on the left hand side of her brother, shoulder to shoulder. "You need to keep your voice down. They don't know who you are. They know Sydney and they know me but for your own sakes! They've already tried to kill me and they'll probably torture me again for information but you still have a chance!" She pleaded in a small voice. Vaughn took a good look at her face. She had been severely beaten and was obviously in a lot of pain. Her voice reflected all the pain that was rushing through her.  
  
"Who?" He unwrapped his arms from Sydney and attempted to touch Claire but she protested. He was absolutely distraught by seeing his sister this way. This is what he had wanted to protect her from.  
  
"It's Stephan. He discovered that I was a double and captured me!" She started to sob silently. "I can't believe he's captured you. Oh G-d. Oh G-d." The tears overcame her body and shook her violently. "I begged him not to."  
  
"Stephan? Stephan who?" Vaughn tried to capture her eye and placed his hand on each of her shoulders. "C'mon, talk to me! Who are you a double for?" He pushed himself onto his haunches, so he sat higher than her.  
  
"Sark. Stephan Sark. He recruited me into his organization after Samuel's death and my recruitment into 5. He thought I would rebel against them and work for him. I went back to my superiors and I-and I became a double. I told him I would work against 5 for him but I was really working against him. I saw the paperwork. I knew what he had done!" The tears coursed down her face in the darkness, collecting in little pools of her pores.  
  
"What? What? C'mon, keep talking!" Vaughn urged her, sounding a bit more severe than intended.  
  
She stopped her tears for a moment a looked at her brother in horror. She seemed to stop breathing for a moment and it looked like she was straining to speak or to hear something. "He killed Samuel. Ordered it and then decided to do it on his own. Right there in his bed-our bed. I found him when I came home. The place had been ransacked and when I went into the background, I saw it. There he was, covered head to toe in blood. It's all really just a blur now but I just remember not being able to talk and I heard a voice screaming and-and it was my own." She spoke in a sober voice, her tone shaking violently as she saw the images of her royal blue bed cover inundated with blood and feeling his blood seep into her clothes as she touched his face, in horror.  
  
This was all too close to home for Sydney. She sat up, wrapping her arms around her body and rested her chin on her knees. This was exactly what it felt like for her to lose Danny. She understood more than anyone else in this world.  
  
"I never understood why he killed him. Samuel was just a man. Just a man." Claire continued, letting her emotions block her vocal cards for a little while. Her agent training was obviously kicking in. She stopped her tears and looked at Vaughn hard and continued, "Then, he killed Mom. Right there, in the middle of the street. She was picking out apples to make into a pie for a new couple that had moved in up the hill and they came up on either side of her and abducted her. They took her back to a warehouse and beat her until she slipped unconscious. From there, they burnt her face and tortured her until finally her heart gave out. He killed her and all the while, I was working for him. I had to sit at the same table with him and share my food with him. And then, he discovered I was still with 5 and now, I'm here."  
  
Absolute horror had set into his body. Vaughn let his body go limp. He fell back on his haunches and looked away from her and towards the door. His brow was wrinkled in concern and he didn't exactly know what to make of this. It was bad enough that he had come to terms with his mother's death and the fact that he had been captured but to hear of his sister's status broke his heart in two. "After that night that I told you, I had to call Sark and tell him what happened. He had the house bugged and wanted to know if I was loyal."  
  
This wasn't happening. This was absolutely, no doubt not happening. His sister was NOT a double agent and was not associating with Sark. "No. No. No."  
  
"Vaughn." Sydney placed her hand on his arm to comfort him in any way possible. She felt so frail and so hopeless. "Vaughn."  
  
"No, Sydney." His head snapped back towards his sister. "You are not an agent, let alone a double agent."  
  
"Listen to me." She pleaded hoarsely. "Sark killed Mom and found out I was a double. Then, he found out about your meeting in the club and sent in one of his finest agents to infiltrate. She did and they captured you."  
  
"There is no way that you're a double agent!" Vaughn managed to yell.  
  
"Then what the hell am I doing here with you? If I'm not a double, then why I am in this G-d forsaken cell with you? Huh? Answer me that, Mike." She snapped back, unable to contain her temper for a moment longer. He couldn't. "You have no clue what it's like to live with that everyday. The lying, the deceit. It eats away at you and pretty soon, all you have of yours is a punching bag, two cell phones, and enough bruises on your body to keep the cosmetic industry in business for years."  
  
"Don't forget about the tangled webs of lies and keeping them straight all the time. It's worst thing when you almost get caught, isn't it? That out of control feeling that takes over and all you can do is keep your mouth shut and push the emotions away. You're inhumane until you're all alone in your room and all you can do is cry and after you're done, you wipe your eyes and continue lying. Horrible, isn't it?" Sydney spoke up, her voice surprisingly calm but saturated in poison. "And when they ask you 'who do you work for,' what are you suppose to say? Do you say the place that you first worked for or the place you're suppose to work for or is that the same thing? Five words can cause so much trouble."  
  
"Not as much trouble as 'double agent.'" Claire crossed her arms in front of her chest and sank back into the corner.  
  
Vaughn managed to find a spot against the wall and leaned against it, letting his head rest against it as he starred at the ceiling. He couldn't find the right words at that moment, so instead, he just listened to the girls compare life stories.  
  
"You worked for SD-6?" Claire questioned, feeling strength return slowly to her body.  
  
Sydney never got to answer the question. A man swept into the room and pulled Sydney to her shakey feet. His tall frame was outlined by the blinding light that filled the outside world, the world beyond the heavy wooden door that shut them out. Her hands were bound with hand cuffs and she was thrown out the door into the desolate unknown.  
  
Claire was pulled next, leaving Vaughn alone in the room. He started to second guess his existence. He was alone for what seemed like days on the end. He had no idea what was going on in the other rooms. He didn't know about the swollen eyes or broken bones. Or that Sydney had given up home of a rescue and she had stopped dreaming. Yes, that was when the torture had really gotten to her. She stopped dreaming. Vaughn had no idea that her life quickly became an endless circle of beatings followed by passing out only to awake to a small cup of water and begin again. She felt her ribs poke from beneath her skin and her face run gaunt  
  
All he did know was that a large guard would come in every once and a while and just kick him in the rib cage. Over and over and over and over. They would just beat him until he bled and bruised but mostly until he passed out. He seemed to run out of air the fastest. They seemed to know exactly where to hit and put pressure. They knew about the cancer and the tumor.  
  
The heavy wooden door swung open. Round eight was beginning and Vaughn felt like this time, he would surely be knocked out early. The pain was too intense and the malnutrition too intense. He watched with slit eyes as the door swung open, letting yellow light burn his eyes. His eyes slammed shut. It was painful to keep them open for much longer. He was lying on his side, resting on broken ribs. The guard shut the door firmly behind him and turned on a small flashlight from the depths of his pockets. Before turning around, the guard adjusted his black cloak to cover his face. Slowly, he turned around and face Vaughn, his light still obscured by darkness. He crouched down in front of Vaughn. He set the flashlight down nearby, letting the light flash upwards. "Michael." The guard was not a male but in fact a beautiful woman, in a long black cloak. She reached forward and touched his face in stir him from his state that he was in. "Michael Vaughn, please open your eyes."  
  
He thought it was a dream. He hadn't heard that voice in such a long time and the old wounds of heartache started to surface again. His eyes refused to look and his ears refused to listen. This was unbelievable.  
  
"Mike, please listen to me. You have to or else we won't be able to get you out of here. I know you don't believe who I am right now and I can't say that I don't blame you."  
  
"You're suppose to be dead." He finally manage to speak after a few moments of silence. His thoughts were coming together more clearly and suddenly things were clicking. "Devlin gave up on finding your body. He wouldn't even let me search for you anymore." He whispered, not being able to speak any louder.  
  
"Darling, I know."  
  
"You're suppose to be dead." He repeated again, finding his speech slurred from the bruises.  
  
"I know, darling and I can explain everything. I promise. We'll have to talk later. I'm going to come back tonight and fetch you, the girl, and Claire. Sark's leaving tonight and he's leaving me in charge. As soon as his plane departs, I've issued a security check on the grounds. You need to be awake with the girls and I'll come for you. We'll get you a safe house. I promise."  
  
"How do I know this isn't a trap?"  
  
She looked at him hard, the light reflecting little elements of her face. "You don't but darling, I need you to trust me. For my sake, for yours, Sydney's and especially Maisie."  
  
He must have been delirious. "This has to be a trap. There's no way you're alive."  
  
She sighed, frustrated that he was so unbelieving, "Ask me anything about anything." She relented.  
  
Vaughn thought for a moment, "What were we going to name our daughter?"  
  
Jeanette instantly started to smile a little, "Jaqueline Willow Vaughn. Jaqueline after my father Joseph and Willow after your father, William."  
  
That was it. She knew the exact piece of information only Jeanette would know. "Jeanie. Jeanie, it's really you." He wanted to reach out but found his arms unable to move. He was lucky that he was conscious.  
  
"Darling, we have to talk later. Be prepared to leave. Be safe until." She got up in one motion and made her way towards the door.  
  
"Jeanie!" He gasped and watched her turn around once more, the light flickered around to shine him in the face. "Promise me you'll get Sydney out of here?"  
  
She didn't even hesitate, "I swear to you."  
  
The door slammed shut and the light drained from the room. He felt so sick at that moment and wished he had something in his stomach to vomit. . 


	19. Lost In Translation

Okay, this chapter gets a little smutty involving Sark. And I'm changing the rating for this chapter only to PG-13  
  
"I'm not telling you anything." Sydney said defiantly, as she was strapped into a wooden chair. Her body was aching with broken bones and bruises that seemed to consume her body. The newest one to torture her had come in and was examining the contents of the room. She seemed unsure of what she wanted to do with Sydney. But, she was elegantly dressed. She wore a neat black suit with a white lacey blouse beneath. Her stiletto heels clicked delicately across the pavement. Her hair was done perfectly, swept into a neat little bun.  
  
"We didn't ask you anything." The guard, who was standing near the door snapped.  
  
"It's only a matter of time." She retorted, happy with her attitude about the situation. She felt like she had nothing to lose but she knew in her heart that she had everything and anything to lose.  
  
"What? Have you nothing to lose?" The guard, dressed in a black business suit joked.  
  
She just smiled a reply and refused to say nothing. What was it, five years ago that she stated something similar?  
  
"I've got nothing to lose." She stated, her words dripping with sarcasm.  
  
"That's not true. You have your teeth." Suit and glasses had replied, pulled her back right molar from her jaw line.  
  
But now that was not the case. At that point, she had nothing to live for anymore. There was no guiding light in her life. She thought that he had died. But, it turns out, that Danny wasn't her true love. He wasn't the one that was meant to be. She shook her head to hopefully get some clarity on her thoughts. What was she thinking? Of course Danny was her love. She was going to marry him...sure, and she also thought that SD- 6 was a covert branch of the CIA. How could have she been so naïve? Was she really that stupid?  
  
She sighed heavily and watched the woman walk around the room.  
  
"Leave me!" A feminine voice shook the room, making Sydney and the guard jump out of shock. "Leave me alone with her!"  
  
"But Miss-"  
  
"Leave. Me." She hissed, turning her head towards the guard and dropping her voice so low that it gave Sydney chills.  
  
"But Mister-"  
  
"I don't care what he thinks!" She snapped sharply. "You get out of this room or I'll make you get out!" To take out her frustration, she swept her arm across the table, sending viles and metal objects flying in all directions. They clattered against the cement walls. "Get out!"  
  
The guard nodded curtly and hurried from the room, slamming the door behind him.  
  
The woman kept her tough exterior and strutted over to Sydney, bending next to her ear, "You have absolutely no reason to trust me and I understand that but we have to make this look real if you want to get out here alive. Michael's not doing well. Sark knows about the cancer and he's using it against him." Her words were sincere and obviously, she cared about Sydney. This was very strange.  
  
Sydney felt her blood run cold and her eyes get wide. Sark. Cancer. Those two words were enough to burn a hole through her heart any other time but when used in the same sentence, they might as well have just shot her.  
  
"Listen, there is a security camera above my right shoulder. I'll keep my back to it as long as you can keep up the act that I'm hurting you. Are we agreed to that? Right now, they think I'm whispering threats. It's apparently my trademark." The woman took a step back and smiled, her smokey made up eyes shining and deep crimson lips curling into a smile.  
  
"Who are you?" Sydney's eyes were popping out of their swollen sockets.  
  
Jeanette didn't answer. She crossed briskly over and grabbed a vile and a needle, one that had survived her temper into her hand. "I need you," she whispered softly, her lips barely moving, "to pretend like I'm about to inject you with a depilating drug."  
  
"Oh G-d. No, please." She started to beg but she wasn't acting. How did she know that this wasn't going to kill her?"  
  
"It's a pain killer." Jeanette whispered and filled the syringe, finally talking at normal volume. "You have no idea, do you? We've tested this on all sorts of animals and they've all wound up dead. It attacks the nervous system. Causes terrible twitches and spasms that are uncontrollable. Sad thing is, we're sure it causes a great deal of pain but my employer is curious to see how it will work on humans. I'm sorry, darling, but I believe you are about to be the first test subject." She squirted a little bit into the air, taking careful measurement of how much was left before plunging it deep in Sydney's exposed arm. "That will last you long enough to get you on the plane. Don't worry, Vaughn's fine. Everything's going to be okay." She whispered into Sydney's ear again.  
  
"Who are you?" She managed to groan, feeling the toxin seep through her veins.  
  
"I'm Jeanette."  
  
"So, love, I'm off tonight. Will you be able to manage things on your own? I want Bristow terminated and if you could take care of the other one, then life would just be wonderful. They're not that valuable to me. We've tried to tap that well one too many times. Especially that Vaughn girl. Lord, was she ever the ideal stupid child."  
  
"And to think that you developed feelings for her." Jeanette crossed her legs and started to play with the hem of her skirt as she sat on the corner of Sark's business desk upstairs.  
  
Sark stopped what he was doing and looked at her. He was dressed in a gray business suit and looked like every other businessman across the world. "Oh love." He sighed heavily. "How could I ever love anyone but you? You...." He crossed over to the desk and finding a space to the side of her legs. He cupped her face in his hand and felt her lean into it, her eyes brimming over false sadness. "..are the only one I could ever love."  
  
"Then why were you so eager to work with her?" She pouted falsely. She started to fumble with the buttons on his shirt. She refused to let eyes meet his. She licked her lips and pouted even further, pressing her bottom lips as far as it would possible go. She even managed to produce a few tears that fell over her foundation covered face. "You loved her, didn't you?"  
  
He forced her to look at him, "I never loved her. I love you." He took his other arm and wrapped it around her waist, pulling them closer still.  
  
"Good." She managed to utter. Her minds started to race. She didn't know when she was going to do this but it had to be within the next few minutes. "Cancel your trip then. It's not imperative that you leave tonight. Leave tomorrow. I'll make it worth your while." She tempted, letting her hands slip into the belt loops on his pants. She pulled him closer, almost letting his lips touch hers. "Please baby."  
  
He barely said a word. He unwrapped an arm from her and reached into his pocket for his cell phone. He hit three buttons and pressed it up to his ear as Jeanette started to press her lips against his neck, causing him to stir with excitement. "Yes, it's me. I'm not leaving tonight. I'm leaving tomorrow. Why? I've got some unfinished business to attend to." He snapped the flip phone and tossed it over his shoulder. It landed on the floor, almost shattering on contact. It was a rather stupid move but it didn't really matter. He lunged towards her, closer than before until abdomen was pressed up against abdomen. He started to kiss her patiently, his hands groping all over her body. He moaned her name as she kissed the sweet spots along his neck, leaving marks along his jugular. Somewhere, he peeled off her suit jacket, followed by his own. He unfastened her shoulder holster and let it drop with a thud next to her and started to unbutton the white lacey button down shirt beneath. She reached down and helped him finish the buttons and "Wasn't this worth postponing your little business trip?" She parted her lips from his and smiled.  
  
"Oh yeah." He managed to moan.  
  
That was the only answer she needed. Uncrossing her legs, she whipped them around, executing a kick straight to the base of his neck, sending him barreling over. Before he had time to react and attack, she pulled a gun, with a silencer of course, from the fallen holster and held it, cold, in her hands.  
  
"You b-tch!" He screamed, holding his face, which already beginning to swell. From his position on the ground, he glared at her. "What was that for?" And then he realized the gun.  
  
"Don't move." She hissed. He didn't expect that much power from her. She didn't look especially strong. Grant it, she was extremely muscular but the power in her moves was definitely unforeseen.  
  
"Jeanie....Jeanie, I don't understand. Why?"  
  
Her blood curled as she heard him call her that. That was Michael's nickname for her. No one else was allowed to call her that. She was Michael's Jeanie.  
  
She inhaled deeply and stepped over him, the gun still cocked and poised at him. "You really have to ask, Stephen? You blackmailed me into working for you. You deceived me. And now you have to ask why?" Somehow, she managed to feel no emotion. She had seen what he had done and what he was going to do and felt nothing. Not even the slightest twinge of regret. She watched his young form shake down to the floor. She stood over him, watching him die and shot him four more times. He stopped moving. He stopped breathing. He stopped pleading for her to do something. He stopped being. He was no longer a threat.  
  
She gathered her shirt and buttoned it calmly. Her black blazer and her holster came next. She took a deep inhale, stepped over the body and walked towards the door. Phase one was over. Time for phase two. 


	20. Waiting Upon the Horizon

AN: So, no reviews for my last chapter? Wishing and hoping for this one!!! We're coming down to the wire, believe it or not.  
  
"Come along, Agent Bristow. Time to rise and shine. We're out of here." Jeanette came running into the torture chamber. Sydney had passed out long ago from the pain medication. She stirred slightly at the sound of the voice but her vision was severely blurry. Her lip twitched slightly and felt the lactic acid build in her muscles. She felt a pair of hands fuss around her, unbinding the restraints. "Sydney!" She tapped either side of her cheeks, trying to revive her.  
  
She started to become a touch more coherent. She started to pull herself out of the fog that surrounded her. Her eyes fluttered slightly and she could clearly see Jeanette standing over her, her eyes wide with adrenaline pushing through her. "What?"  
  
Jeanette was all business. "We're getting you back to Fleury. There's a van waiting outside to take us to the airport and from there, we're going back to the Vaughn estate."  
  
"Vaughn?" Sydney slurred. She felt the drool escape down her face and her entire left side of her body go numb.  
  
Jeanette leaned forward and started to help Sydney up to her bare feet. The poor thing was still dressed in that ugly white outfit but her shoes had been lost long ago. Sark could have at least found some decent clothes for the poor child. Jeanette swung Sydney's arm over her neck and slowly started to drag her out of the room. They ran past corridors of cold white gray cement walls. All the while, Jeanette whispered encouraging words. They would be safe. She had called all the guards to Sark's office. He had been mysteriously found dead upon her arrival for their meeting. She found it necessary for her to leave to "make sure the prisoners were still there." Little did they know that she was liberating them.  
  
There was a little black van waiting outside the warehouse. It was nothing but a van to transport cargo. Jeanette threw open the back doors and aided Sydney into the van. Sydney found refuge on the floor and curled up tightly in ball. "Here. Full clip." She tossed her a gun and slammed the door tightly as she bolted towards the warehouse. There were still two more people she needed to save.  
  
"Agent Vaughn! Agent Vaughn!" Jeanette undid the metal restraints. "My name is Jeanette Stokes and I'm intelligence agent. I'm getting you out of here. Please, I need you to work with me."  
  
But Claire had passed out long. The paleness of her complexion had peaked and she looked as though she was basically dead. She was no conditioned to being under such conditions. This was the most intense experience she had ever been under. Now she could truly say that she was an agent.  
  
Somehow, Jeanette managed to pull Claire into the car and as she pulled open the van, she was met with the business end of a gun. "Whoa, Sydney! It's me, Jeanette!" She threw her hand into the to show she was unarmed. Sydney had managed to sit up and draw the gun, panting from the intense motion. When she saw who was standing there, she collapsed back down muttering, "Thank G-d" under her breath.  
  
The doors were slammed shut once more and Jeanette made her most dangerous extraction. Questions started to race on whether or not the guards would realize that Sydney and Claire were no longer there.  
  
But thankfully, she managed to get Vaughn out with no problem. He had been sitting upright in his cell, his feet crossed up close to him. "Jeanie!"  
  
"We have to get you out of here!" She cried and pulled his hands.  
  
But he resisted, "Sydney? Claire?"  
  
"I have them in the van. C'mon! We've got to go!"  
  
Vaughn was thrown in the van and she gunned it. They were escaping now.  
  
As she pulled away, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone. She dialed a distinct number. "Yes, this is Rising Phoenix. Agent number KR-19384-3840308. Confirmation bleeding sun. Get me Kendall, now."  
  
"Please hold." The operator replied.  
  
"Where the hell are you?" Kendall snapped back, his voice crackling over the poor connection.  
  
"Odessa. We're catching a flight to Fleury. Have agents standing by at the Vaughn estate."  
  
"Why the hell aren't you going to our safe house in Russia? Fleury is too far off!"  
  
"Because Sark's men are going to be looking for me. I just killed their boss and then took off with three captives. Do you want me to stay in Russia? Besides, the Vaughn estate is the safest place I can think of." Kendall seemed to think for a moment and stopped. "What is Agent Vaughn's condition."  
  
Her eyes glanced over her former boyfriend sitting beside her. "Not well. Multiple lacerations and bruising. Possible collapsed lung. We need medical attention!" She managed to shriek as she glanced at all the mirrors, checking to see if she was followed.  
  
He sighed heavily and Jeanette could almost see him leaning into the phone, frustrated beyond belief. "We'll send Agent Weiss with a medical team to the Vaughn estate. Make sure they get there safely, Agent Salve. These agents are important to the agency."  
  
She almost smiled at that. Vaughn was always destined to be great and do great things. "I promise you that I will."  
  
"ETA?"  
  
"Fifteen hours."  
  
A sharp ring punished through his sleep. Weiss rolled over and grabbed his cell phone, "Weiss." He managed to gargle. He was completely incoherent. The bed sheets were wrapped around his body tightly and he was suffocating from the heavy comforter of the safe house that he was staying at. He had been working around the clock trying to figure out how to extract Vaughn, Claire and Sydney.  
  
"Get your ass on the plane that's leaving in twenty minutes." Kendall's voice barked over the phone, thousands of miles away.  
  
"Why?" Weiss managed to stutter. "Did we find something about Vaughn? About Sydney?" The hope flooded over in his voice.  
  
"No." And the stark reality began to set in.  
  
"Then what is it?"  
  
"We're sending you back to Fleury and to the Vaughn estate. Agent Salve is arriving with Agents Vaughn and Agent Bristow in a matter of hours. We need you to be there when they arrive. Is that understood?"  
  
"Yes, yes, sir, of course." Weiss managed to stammer as he rose tentatively from his bed. His limbs were shaky from his drowsy state.  
  
It was early in the morning and the world was coated in a deep fog. He got from the black car and surveyed the scene for a brief moment. Everything seemed so peaceful and now, it would all change. He hated being the bearer of bad news but there was nothing to avoid this. There was no way to avoid this. This was their destiny. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and looked to others getting to their feet from the car. "Wait." He barely whispered. "She's not going to be happy when she finds our why we're here. So just hang tight for a minute." He pulled his black jacket around his body around his body a little tighter to keep out the chill. She probably asleep, safe in her bed with her "daughter" sleeping beside her. He ran up the stairs and pounded loudly on the door. There was no answer for a while. Then, as if by the hands of a god, the light from the upstairs bedroom came on. Flashes of light started to pour down and then, the foyer lights came on. The door hesitantly pulled open.  
  
"Eric?" Isabelle gasped, pulling the door open and dropping her jaw. Isabelle pulled back and looked at the truck, gathering the robe tighter around her waist.  
  
"I don't understand. How?" She pulled the door open and ushered him in. She lunged at him, letting her robe flap open as she embraced him passionately and captured his lips in hers. They parted for a moment, dizzy from lack of oxygen and she rested her head on his shoulder. "What's going on?" Not wanting to stand still for a moment, she pulled back and looked into his honey colored eyes. "Eric? Baby, what's wrong?"  
  
He pulled her hands off of his body and held them closely in his. "Isabelle, please. There's no time. I'll explain later?" He turned to motion for the medics to follow.  
  
"What's wrong? What's going on? Is it Michael? Claire? Oh my lord, it must be Claire. I knew something wasn't right with her." Isabelle ushered them into living room and collapsed down onto the couch. She kept her hands near Weiss at all times. She felt like he was her rock and could not stand the out of control feeling that had rushed over her body.  
  
Jeanette parked the van in the driveway and hesitated slightly as she got out. Gone was her business suit and I its place was a casual black sweat suit with her hair pulled into a pony tail. She had stripped away her make up and pulled on her running shoes. And as beautiful as she looked, she had never been more nervous. She hadn't seen Isabelle in five years and she hadn't seen her daughter since birth. The butterflies were coursing through her so hard that she felt like she was going to snap in two.  
  
But she needed Isabelle's help.  
  
She was probably the only one right now that could help her. Vaughn was doing considerably worse and desperately needed medical treatments. The plane ride, across the continent had not done him well. They traveled under aliases. They were a family traveling home for a family reunion in Fleury. Jeanette had rented a car and sped to the Vaughn Estate. Panic spread through her and she started to shake violently. Her hands groped around waist and she found her gun. She tapped it softly, to reassure herself that it was there. She couldn't stand how badly she was shaking. The thought that someone had followed them and then beaten them there made her pulse race. Why was there someone here? Cautiously, she pushed the car door open and made her way towards the house. Her feet treaded carefully along and before she even realized it, she made it to the house. She knocked softly, winced slightly at her indecisiveness, and then knocked harder.  
  
Without realizing the fury behind it, the door came flying open and there was Weiss standing there, "Identify yourself." He answered gruffly.  
  
She inhaled deeply, suddenly happy that it was an agent's car parked outside-a good agent's car. "I'm Agent Jeanette Salve-"  
  
"Jeanie?" Weiss cut in quickly, the shock setting in quickly. "You're suppose to be dead."  
  
Jeanette smiled softly, "That's the third time I've gotten that today." And chuckled slightly to herself but then it set in. "Agent Weiss?"  
  
Weiss felt the edges of his lips start to pull into a small smile. "Yup."  
  
Part of her wanted to stand her on the poorly lit porch and stroll down memory lane but then she promptly realized, "Agent Vaughn's condition is worse. I need your help." She pleaded. Suddenly, she found tears coursing through her face as she reached forward and embraced the best friend of her boyfriend for the first time in half a decade.  
  
"How's Agent Bristow and Claire Vaughn?"  
  
Jeanette didn't even bother to respond. She just turned around and raced back towards the van. She had stopped breathing and thinking a long time ago. Everything was absolutely robotic and each practiced move was coming in handy. Weiss followed her, calling to the other agents to follow. The cool early morning air numbed her body and played with the loose strands of hair that played about her face. She threw open the doors to the van and watched the early morning moon light stream into the back. Sydney was curled up in a ball with Vaughn resting on his back, his head resting near her abdomen. Claire was huddled in a corner, very much awake and very much afraid. She was shaking violently with the tears coursing down her face.  
  
Isabelle had bolted from the house, keeping in pace with rest of the agents. She ran like nothing else mattered in the world. She knew something was wrong. Weiss had explained the situation lightly but she had a gut instinct that he was terribly wrong about something. Grant it, she didn't know what but she knew something wasn't right.  
  
"Oh my G-d, Claire!" Isabelle managed to scream and lunged forward into the small black car with the tinted windows. "What happened?" Her voice cracked through still air. She ignored the fact that Jeanette was standing there and focused on her battered siblings, one sitting in the front and one sitting in the back.  
  
Jeanette ignored this, "You two, get Agent Claire Vaughn out of this car and bring her to the upstairs bedroom. Ms. Vaughn will direct you." She pointed to two agents and then to the front seat. "You!" She pointed out the remaining agent, "Take Agent Bristow into the guest room. Agent Weiss and I will take Agent Vaughn into the house. After that, we'll regroup in the living room and we'll discuss what's going on." She quickly walked around to the passenger side door and pulled Vaughn out into the French soil. She tapped his face softly in attempt to wake him up. She had drugged him on the plane.  
  
Weiss ran around to the front and supported the weight of Vaughn's body on his. Together, he and Jeanette made their way towards the house. "Isabelle, get into the house! We need to tell these people where to put them."  
  
"Oh my G-d. Oh my G-d." They reached the house and immediately held the door open, her eyes wide in absolute panic.  
  
"Please don't ask me that right now. We've got to get them into bed- " Jeanette responded.  
  
"Michael's bedroom is the first door on the left." She instructed them, her body shaking with absolute terror. She wasn't mentally equipped to handle with this.  
  
"Agent Vaughn's?" The strong agent had Claire's frail body flailing in his arms.  
  
"Second door on the right." Isabelle responded soberly.  
  
Sydney was pulled out next and she quickly regained consciousness from her sleeping form. She started to panic, kicking and throwing her feet around her. One particularly young looking agent tried to restrain her but he was given a hard blow to the cheek bone. 


	21. Wheel of Fortune

Okay, here's another one of those back and forth chapters.  
  
"Mothers and Daughters" John Mayer  
  
"It's My Life" Bon Jovi  
  
"Songbird" Fleetwood Mac  
  
She sat at the edge of the bed and just waited for them to tell her that everything was okay. The sun had already risen in the sky and the light was beginning to pour into the small little bedroom of her youth. Isabelle had chosen to ignore the bustling agents going about her house or the medics running to and from the house. She had even managed to ignore the unfamiliar woman standing in the center of it all, shouting directions and giving an account on what happened. She had collapsed into the large overstuffed chair in the corner and pulled her feet up under her. Her eyes fluttered from exhaustion that she didn't even realize how tired she was on.  
  
"Mommy?" A little voice appeared from the doorway, the cool air flapping the yellow night gown on her little body.  
  
Her eyes opened and she faked a smile, "Hey sweetheart."  
  
"Mommy, what's going on? There's so many people!" She exclaimed letting her hands fall at her side. Her frail little frame stood strong against the cool breeze that swept through the house.  
  
She loved how naïve her daughter was. "Come here, sweetie." She opened her arms to welcome her daughter into them. The little girl curled up tightly in her mother's lap and found a little crook underneath her chin. Her warm body heat soon started to heat the mother's cold center. "Things are going to be crazy today. So, I need you to be extra good today, okay? I promise, as soon as everything calms down, we're gonna go and I'll buy you something at the toy shop in town." She cooed softly, not know whether she really spoke for her daughter or herself. Maisie played with Isabelle's long fingertips, letting rise and fall with her touch.  
  
On behalf of every man, looking out for every girl  
  
You are the god, and you are the weight of the world  
  
"What's wrong with Tante Claire? And Oncle and Tante Sydney? Why are they still sleeping?" Maisie spoke rather loudly.  
  
"Shh. Shh. Tante Claire is sleeping." Isabelle held her finger up to her lips and tried to silence her. Her little girl could be so loud sometimes! She didn't want her daughter waking the entire house or making a ruckus.  
  
"Oh. Okay." The little girl immediately hushed her voice and let her eyes grow wide. "Why is everyone so scared?" She puckered her lips slightly and waited for an answer.  
  
They didn't see a woman standing near the doorway, the tears brimming over in her eyes. She was frightened and unsure whether she should hazard entering the room. She knew exactly what this scene meant and this was the first time in five years that she could see it. Finally, she gathered enough courage to enter, "Isabelle?" She spoke softly and started to pray that she would recognize her voice.  
  
Isabelle glanced up from her daughter and starred at the woman, who she obviously didn't recognize right away. "Yes?"  
  
Jeanette cleared her throat uncomfortably and continued into the room, taking note of the sleeping Claire. "How are you doing?"  
  
"I'm fine. Well, I'm good as I can be expected, I suppose." Isabelle tripped over her words as she started to bounce her daughter up and down on her knees, kissing her ear softly.  
  
Jeanette came closer and knelt down in front of the chair and touched Maisie's foot lovingly, "Is this Maisie?"  
  
The color drained out of her face and Isabelle felt her mouth go dry. She couldn't think. She couldn't breath. She couldn't move. She recognized that voice. "Jeanie?" Her French accent slurred the "J" but the disbelief was still evident. "You're-you're suppose to be dead." She looked like she had just seen a ghost and to some degree, she had. "I don't understand." She pulled her daughter closer to her body. It was her security blanket as she started to shake beneath the light weight of another woman's daughter.  
  
"Mommy?" Maisie looked at the woman and back to her mother with puzzled eyes.  
  
"Are you Maisie?" Jeanette spoke softly, unable to utter anything more than a whisper.  
  
Maisie was never one to be shy and loved the limelight more than anything else in the world, "Yes, silly. Who are you?"  
  
"I'm Jeanette. I'm a good friend of your uncle." Jeanette lied, feeling the tears well up in her eyes.  
  
Isabelle felt her throat close up and go absolutely dry. There was a sudden surge of emotions and she felt like her brain had gone numb. She reached the maximum capacity for taking things in and she couldn't do it anymore....even if she really tried. "I really don't understand. You're suppose to be dead." Her words dripped with venom and soaked with hatred.  
  
She straightened up slightly, reaching out for Maisie's hand. "I know."  
  
@@@@@@@@  
  
"So you want to tell me how long you've been an agent?" A senior agent queried as he sat near the bed. He had taken residence at the head of her bed, in a hard wooden chair. His brow was wrinkles and his suit freshly wrinkled from the long flight for LA. He was tired there was no doubt about that and he could think of more enjoyable things to do with his time than to sit with a reckless agent who nearly got herself killed by being careless with her double status. She had approached death's door and all through the night, the medics worked reverently on bringing her back from her state. But the CIA was anxious to see her and hear her side of the story.  
  
She was propped up with some pillows with an IV dripping steadily from her arm. Her face was swollen and coated with deep bruises. Her lip was swollen and her jaw ached with the sucker punches that were thrown at her face. She had three fractured ribs, a broken ankle and severe lacerations across random parts of her body. "For some time." Her voice uttered coldly. She was broken beyond belief and she was tough now. Like Sydney was when she was being tortured in Taipei...before she joined the CIA.  
  
This ain't a song for the broken-hearted  
  
No silent prayer for the faith-departed  
  
I ain't gonna be just a face in the crowd  
  
You're gonna hear my voice  
  
When I shout it out loud  
  
"That's not a good answer, Agent Vaughn." Agent Eades pressed further, crossing his tired arms over his chest.  
  
"Well, it's going to have to do for now, Agent.?"  
  
"Agent Eades, Agent Vaughn."  
  
"Well, Agent Eades. It's' my life and I have to live with the decisions I've made. It's really okay. Don't worry about me. I'll be fine."  
  
It's my life  
  
It's now or never  
  
I ain't gonna live forever  
  
I just want to live while I'm alive  
  
(It's my life)  
  
My heart is like an open highway  
  
Like Frankie said  
  
I did it my way  
  
I just wanna live while I'm alive  
  
It's my life  
  
"Like hell you will. You almost got yourself killed-"  
  
"Get my superiors on the phone. You want to talk to Tom Quinn." She hissed and started to lower her body down to get a little more comfortable and possibly sleep. "And maybe when you're finished, you can wake me and tell me what Thames House has to say about my situation. Until then, get the hell out of here. I'm beaten, bruised, and tired. Get the hell out."  
  
"Not before I ask you some questions."  
  
"What is this? My CIA debriefing? C'mon! Even my agency has the decency to let an agent heal over a bit before they debrief them! Give me a chance to get myself together. I won't answer any questions." She snapped and scowled.  
  
"I'm not leaving for I ask you these questions." He snapped back. His temper matched hers.  
  
Claire had snuggled down and was now lying flat against the mattress with her head propped up on a pillow. The pain medication was beginning to run thin and her breath started to run raged against her dry mouth. "Go for it."  
  
He nodded his head in agreement and pulled out a tape recorder. "Please state your name for the record."  
  
"Claire Larissa Vaughn. V-A-U-G-H-N"  
  
"Please state your classification and identification."  
  
"I am a field agent, identification 39R-30438-29482."  
  
"Who do you work for?"  
  
"I am an agent for MI5. Then, I was recruited to work for another rogue organization, The Triad."  
  
"And the name of this new leader?"  
  
"Sark. Stephan Sark."  
  
"Please explain the recruitment."  
  
"Mr. Sark recruited me into his organization after Samuel-"  
  
"Samuel?"  
  
"Samuel Hartfiled, an agent that I had become involved with."  
  
This was the answer he was waiting for. She would be a perfect an example to make on a global scale. This was the reason why agents should not be involve with each other. "Involved with?  
  
She sighed heavily and felt the weight of her left ring. "We were romantically involved." She quickly admitted before looking away and concentrating on the small paint chip on the opposite wall.  
  
He nodded with the answer, "Describe the nature of your relationship."  
  
"What?" Claire snapped.  
  
"Where you intimate with Mr. Hartfield?"  
  
She was completely insulted by the nature of these questions, "I don't' see how that is relevant to any of this."  
  
"I do. I'll ask you once more-were you intimate with Mr. Hartfield?"  
  
Broken beyond repair, she managed to gasp, "Yes."  
  
"How well did you know Mr. Hartfield? Did you trust him?"  
  
"In my line of work, there is no such thing as trust."  
  
Another force came into the room, his arms out of frustration, "What's going on here?" His normally weak sounding voice barked. "I told you you're not to interrogate her until we're back in the states or we hear from the agent's superiors! Do you understand me? Get out before I call the office and tell them you breached protocol." He moved into the room and glared at Agent Eaves until he moved.  
  
"Yes, sir." The older agent stood up and backed out of the room, taking the tape recorder with him.  
  
"Wait!" Weiss barked once more. He held out his hand impatiently for the tape recorder. The agent obeyed and like a meek puppy, he placed the tape recorder in his open palm. Deliberately, Weiss opened the tape deck, removed the tape and threw it on the floor, smashing it beneath his feet. "You may go."  
  
"Why did you do that?" Claire scoffed, sinking deeper into the fluffy blankets.  
  
"Because you were admitting things you shouldn't have to. No one needs to know about your relationships."  
  
@@@@  
  
"How are you feeling, baby?" Sydney was curled up in a large blanket at the head of Vaughn's bed. Her hands gently ran along his hair and she smiled slightly, her eyes covered with bruises. She was in debt to one of the agents, she didn't know his name. He had carried her from her bedroom to Vaughn's and let her reside for a while, with her IV still flowing steadily to her vein.  
  
His eyes were open and he was rather coherent. He was lying flat on his back in the bed with an IV dripping down into his veins. A chest tube had been inserted into his lungs to drain out some of the fluid surrounding the tumor. There was a lot of problems with his cancer at that moment but he didn't feel it necessary to worry her anymore. "I'm okay." He lied. His face was badly broken and bruised and each breath hurt more than the last.  
  
Silent tears started to course down Sydney' face. Her body ached so badly with the chemicals that had been pumped through her veins. It ached to be. Weiss had carried her from her room to Vaughn's because of her insisting to see him again. She was never one to sit and be good. "Liar."  
  
Vaughn smiled softly and moved to reach to touch her face. "What did they do to you?" The smile disappeared from his face.  
  
"Nothing a little make-up can't fix up." She curled her body closer and rested her head on her knees. She had been changed into a pair of gray sweatpants and her hair had been combed out of her face by a charming Isabelle.  
  
"What did the doctor say about you?" Vaughn queried, moving his neck slightly to get the crick out.  
  
"Compared to what I could have, I got out very lucky. A fractured cheekbone and enough chemicals going through me to blow up a small country." She acknowledged her arms set in the white gauze "And you?"  
  
"My chest is bugging me a little bit...."He sighed, his breath hitching slightly in his weakening chest, "From all the bruising and the fractured rib and everything else..." His voice trailed off as he met her eyes. He couldn't bear to think of telling her what the doctor was thinking. That he thought that the tumor had grown in size but they would have to wait to get on the plane to do the ultrasound.  
  
Sydney uncurled herself and lay beside him, resting her head against his shoulder. She pulled her arms around him and sank into the depths of her body. She didn't know where to go now. She didn't know what to think.  
  
For you there'll be no more crying  
  
For you the sun will be shining  
  
And I feel that when I'm with you  
  
It's alright  
  
I know that's right  
  
"So the pain. Does that mean anything? I mean, from past experience?" She asked, feeling her voice raspy against the back of her throat.  
  
He sighed heavily and licked his lips, feeling the chap feeling take over. "That's a really good question." He joked slightly, laughing lightly at his own inability to answer this question.  
  
"Seriously."  
  
"Okay, okay. Seriously, I don't know."  
  
"Then what DO you know?" She asked, feeling a little snippy in her own response but couldn't help this total indecisiveness.  
  
"Well, I know that we'll head back to the states in a few days and then, I'll move into a hotel or find an apartment or something-"  
  
"You'll move back in with me." Sydney replied sharply. "Shiva will be happy to see you."  
  
He smiled again, feeling his eyes feel heavy from exhaustion. "Shiva will be happy to see me. I haven't thought about her in a while."  
  
She laughed lightly and smiled, "Yea and after you move back with me?  
  
"And after that, I'll go back to my doctor and hopefully get on track with this stuff...so I'll be around for a bit longer."  
  
He spoke so lightly of a topic that could cause so many ripples in the lives of everyone else in the world. The thought of him not being anymore could destroy Sydney more than anything else in the world. She felt her breath hitch in her chest as she curled up closer to him. "I love you so much."  
  
He un folded his hands from the depths of the blankets and placed his hand at the base of her jaw. "I'm not going anywhere today, Syd."  
  
"But what happens in two years when-"  
  
His voice was a little firmer and less understanding this time, "I'm not going anywhere today, Sydney. I may die tomorrow or next month or next year. Hell, I could still be here for five or ten years. I can't go through each day wondering if I'm going to take my next breath tomorrow. I did for three months and I just can't live like that. I can't live each day like it's my last. If I do, then what's going to happen when I do everything that I want to do? Hmmm?  
  
The tears were now coursing down her face and she had buried herself in his chest, "What will I do without you?"  
  
I wish all the love in the world  
  
But most of all I wish from myself  
  
And the songbirds keep singing like they know the score  
  
And I love you  
  
I love you  
  
I love you  
  
Like never before  
  
Like never before  
  
Like never before  
  
*gasp* Is that not a tearjerker ending or what? Don't worry, I'm not done with the story or anything. We're coming down to the wire but don't worry, there aren't that many twists left but we do have some tear jerker moments left and one that will leave you speechless and teary eyed. And yes, I did plan this many this many confusing moments when I started this in April! 


	22. Myth of Fingerprints

AN: I made a small error and in the last chapter I said that it was early in the morning. That chapter and the following are suppose to be set during twilight with the sun sinking beneath the French country side. Sorry 'bout that! Thank you so much for all the reviews! They're wonderful! Keep them coming!  
  
"I honestly cannot believe that you're alive! You're suppose to be dead! Michael told all of us that he thought you were dead! And now you're back?" She inhaled deeply as a new thought entered her mind, "You want Maisie back? Oh my G-d!" Isabelle sat on the couch, with the other members of the house looking on from different areas of the room. She hadn't had time to go through the conversation she wanted to say when she recognized her voice for the first time. Jeanette had been called down to meet with the other agents when their superior had telephoned and wanted to speak directly to her.  
  
Vaughn was propped up in the large corner chair with the IV dripping from his arm. He was dressed in a pair of sweatpants with a heavy throw blanket covering him. Sydney was wearing her sweats as well and curled up on the couch with Maisie in her arms. They were playing and reading through some of Maisie's books. She had found some old make-up and after she covered her massive face wounds, she played with Maisie, giving her red lipstick and blue eyes shadow. Jeanette was still wearing her clothes from the club and sitting on the arm of the toile covered couch. Weiss was standing near the fireplace, nursing a steaming cup of coffee. Agent Eaves was bringing Claire down the stairs per the commands of Weiss.  
  
"I know, Isabelle. I know but there are some things that happened that I can't explain without going into a lot of detail but the long and the short of it is-it was all staged. I was in harm's way but there were a lot of things that happened and now, I'm here. I'm here and I'm safe. And I'm so happy to see you again, Isabelle." Jeanette started to pace slightly as she started on her little rampage. Her body was already racing with perspiration, the tiny beads of sweat beading along hairline. She couldn't tell them what had really happened.  
  
5 months into her covert operation in Guyana, she was approached by Stephan Sark. He said how he had been watching her and how beautiful she was. He propositioned her for a date. That's how it all started. She kept up her transmissions and was privied to even more information about the drug cartel that anyone back home could have imagined. She was his new girl and whatever his girl wanted, his girl got. She was doing so much good. It was in her tenth month that things started to go downhill. She had just finished her dead drop with a local CIA affiliate with some new information about an impending raid that was going to happen that night. She detailed the weapons that they were going to use and how dangerous it was going to be but she was going to try to witness as much as possible and report back. That was the last meeting she made. From there, she went to the place where the raid was suppose to take place but as she was starting to leave for her destination, Sark found her. He told her how he knew everything. She was then pulled into a warehouse. He showed her pictures of Vaughn, Maisie, of her parents-everyone. He knew exactly who she was and he was going to expose her to Nyana, the head of the new player on the drug scene, Shemaeita (SMT for short.) He convinced her that she could either join his new organization or he would kill her and everyone that she knew. She consented.  
  
And then the trouble began.  
  
He sent her on terrible operations that basically tuned the field rated agent into a well trained assassin. She killed twelve major operatives in the course of eighteen months. She was a killer. A murder.  
  
And all the while, the only thing that kept her going was that she was a mother to a beautiful little girl, that was a thousand miles away from her new residence in Rome, safe with her dear aunt or now her dear mother.  
  
Isabelle looked at Maisie and then back to Jeanette, "You want Maisie back, don't you?" There was a definite pause as she looked back towards her daughter, "Maisie, go to your room for a moment while Mommy and Tante Jeanette talk, alright?"  
  
The little girl was not happy, "But Maman-"  
  
"It's time for you to get ready for bed. I'll be up in a bit to finish your story. Go!"  
  
Maisie immediately stopped moving and talking. She knew when her mother started to yell in French, things were bad. She gathered her book, planted a kiss on Sydney's cheek and marched out of the room like a very defeated little one. Her blue denim dress swayed in the wake of her stride.  
  
Isabelle watched her daughter ascend the stairs before she stared her attack, "I love that little girl more than anything else in the world. I've given up so much for her. David left me because of her. I would do anything and just because you're back from the dead or wherever you were, you have no right to march in here and demand your daughter back-"  
  
"Now, Isabelle-" Jeanette tried to plead with her, holding out her hands toward her.  
  
"I don't care what has happened in the past. It has no reference anymore. She is my child, legally and unless you want to march back to that G-ddamn CIA and tell them what happened! I am not giving my daughter up. You'll have to send your assassins or whoever it is you have kill people come and drag me away because over my dead body will you ever have that little girl-"  
  
"Isabelle!" Jeanette pleaded again, pressing the emotions down her throat and swallowing hard on them.  
  
"No! Let me finish! Maisie is my daughter. She may be yours and Michael's biologically but by the law-international law she is my daughter. You got pregnant and that in and of itself is yours and Michael's fault-"  
  
"Isabelle!" Vaughn snapped upon hearing his sister say this.  
  
"Shut up! And you got yourself in trouble because neither of you wanted to give her up or abort the pregnancy. To keep her safe, you were going to give her up for adoption. I stepped in because I couldn't bear to see my brother's flesh and blood be given to some stranger where G-d knows what could happen! She became my daughter and for everything in the world, she thinks that she is mine! Now, I will tell her one day that she is adopted but she will have no idea who her parents are and I intend on keeping it that way. I would throw myself in front of a moving train, give myself to terrorists, have my body tortured or anything else you can think of in this crazy world, as long as I could keep my baby safe. And Jeanette, there is no way in hell that your taking my little girl, my baby away from me." She concluded her little speech, the tears brimming over her eyes.  
  
"Isabelle," Jeanette had found her seat again, "I was going to say that I am going back to the states, to Langley, and request another long term undercover assignment. I'm leaving with Sydney and Michael in a few hours. Don't worry, Isabelle, I would never dream of doing that to you or to Maisie. I love her too much to see her taken away from you. You're doing such a wonderful job. There's no way that I could ever do what you did and go through the things that you did and raise such a wonderful girl. She's perfect in everyway and the only thing that I did was carry her and give birth to her. She's your daughter in every other way, shape, and form. G-d, Isabelle, she's perfect." Overcome with emotion, Jeanette rose slowly to walk out the room. She felt her trim body sway slightly as she paused at the door leaning towards the foyer. She stopped resting her hand on the wall and talked into her shoulder. "The plane leaves in a few hours. I'll be outside gathering myself together before we leave." And with that, she was gone.  
  
The room was left in absolute silence. No one knew exactly how to react to anything.  
  
When children have to play inside so they don't disappear  
  
And private eyes solve marriage lies cause we don't talk for years  
  
And futbol teams are kissing Queens and losing sight of having dreams  
  
In a world that what we want is only what we want until it's ours  
  
"Anything else, I think I could have handled but I can't handle that." Isabelle choked out.  
  
Vaughn rubbed his sore chest and looked at Sydney, as she straightened up and started to press the lines out of pants. She sighed heavily and looked back at him. "When does the plane leave?"  
  
"Five in the morning." Weiss replied, taking a sip of his cold coffee.  
  
I need a sign to let me know you're here  
  
All of these lines are being crossed over the atmosphere  
  
I need to know that things are gonna look up  
  
'Cause I feel us drowning in a sea spilled from a cup  
  
When there is no place safe and no safe place to put my head  
  
When you feel the world shake from the words that are said  
  
I'm calling all angels  
  
I'm calling all you angels  
  
"That's the last thing I expected her to say." Isabelle said flatly. It was as if she didn't hear a thing that was going on. "I thought she was going to say that she wanted Maisie back. I really, really did."  
  
"But she didn't." Vaughn cut in, starring flatly at her. "She has no inkling of taking Maisie back. She knows that you love her, Izzy and she loves Maisie enough not to keep her and to let her go."  
  
"I didn't think she was going to say that." Isabelle said again.  
  
"Maisie is still yours, Isabelle. She's not going anywhere. You still have your daughter."  
  
"I-I love that little girl more than anything. She's my baby, Michael." Isabelle felt tears well up in her eyes.  
  
"I know, Izzy." Michael smiled back at her.  
  
"We've been through so much. I don't know how we've survived it all." Isabelle said rather profoundly.  
  
Michael nodded and then looked at Sydney. Between the two lovers, there was some unspoken connection that ran through them. Their eyes spoke volumes and both of them knew that everything that had happened was now water under the bridge. Everything from the cancer, the death of his mother, meeting the family, the lying, the deceit, the being captured on an op...everything was forgiven and forgotten. They were back and closer than ever and that's all that really mattered at that moment. They were still in love with each other and everything was working the way it should under the circumstances. 


	23. Calling All Angels

The warm air seeped over her as she lay sleeping in her bed. Her back was expose to the air and as she woke, she felt goose bumps raise from her scantily clad body. Her eyes fluttered open and she started to look around, realizing the bed was empty beside her. Sydney pulled her body out of the empty bed lazily and searched for a piece of discarded clothing. Finding success, she pulled on one of his white button down shirts and found a pair of her heavy socks to cover her chilled feet. Slowly, she pulled the shirt over her frail tank top and her boyfriend's boxer shorts and buttoned a few buttons down the center. The cuffs were undone and revealed the gauze that had been carefully wrapped along her forearms. She found a hair tie and pulled her sleep tasseled hair away from her red blotchy face. It had been a long, emotional trip back home. They had come home in the middle of the night from the office. They had all been through extensive debriefing and they had all gone through so much paperwork in so little time. It had been nothing less of an emotional roller coaster for any of them. But there were only four, not five agents that returned. Claire was not well enough to travel back to the states. She had received the worst torture out of all them. After all, she had been there since early that morning. But in all honestly, she didn't want to come back.  
  
@@@@@  
  
"How can I go to the states when I work in the UK?" She raised her eyebrows in anticipation of the expected answer. "You know I can't come with you." She ran her hand along her left arm to dull the painful sensation that overpowered her. Agent Eaves had sat her down on the couch next to Isabelle or more likely, where Isabelle had resided for a few moments.  
  
It was still the night before they were destined to leave. Vaughn was still sitting in the living room after Isabelle and Jeanette had their little heart to heart or butted heads or whatever you honestly want to call it. The two women had left about ten minutes prior to Vaughn popping this fateful question, "I wish that you would leave the agency." He sighed heavily, looking for some reassurance in Sydney.  
  
"You know I can't. That's like asking you to leave your agency. Look, you didn't even leave when you were diagnosed with cancer! You have a life threatening disease and you're still putting your life on the line on a daily basis! You even went out on an op when you were sick. You of all people should know that I can't leave."  
  
Vaughn thought about this for a long moment. "Oh Claire" was all he could whisper. His brow wrinkled in pain-more emotional than anything else. "I never wanted you to have this life."  
  
"But I do have this life and after everything we've been through, I have to say, that I love it. I am going to make a difference in this world, come hell or high water. I am here because Samuel gave his life protecting his country. I won't work for the CIA because of Dad but damn it, Michael, I need to make a difference and-and do something! I need to make it so that other little girls don't grow up without their father just because he's trying to keep his country safe." Her voice cracked with passion.  
  
"What happens to the men you kill?" Vaughn managed to utter barely above a whisper.  
  
She thought about this for a long time and started to study the bruise coursing down her exposed ankle. "If I can keep one person safe in my life, then my life is fulfilled."  
  
@@@@@  
  
Sydney's eyes glanced in the mirror and she immediately saw the jet lag apparent on her face. She was quickly grateful that she had enough composure to remove some of her make-up before sliding into bed. The appearance of worn black mascara along her age lines would not have been the most beautiful thing in the world. Bright violet bruises were forming around her eyes and her face was swollen from the torture. Her hands quickly found a nearby light switch as she padded towards her kitchen. She saw the bright kitchen light on and wanted to see what was going on. She forgot how much she loved her apartment. It had been a little over ten days since she had been home and she loved the organic ginger smell that her apartment basically reeked of. She missed its bright, clean cut lines of her Eastern inspired furniture. Her hands glided along the edges of her black dressing table as she made her way towards the desired room. All the while, she thought of poor Jeanette, sitting in a cold room in the Joint Task Force Operations, waiting for her debriefing.  
  
@@@@@  
  
Weiss listened to Claire and Vaughn exchange but chose to ignore it for the better part. He crossed quietly out of the room and started to look in all the adjoining rooms for the very much alive agent. He didn't find her downstairs but promptly found her standing outside of Maisie's room, starring at the little girl play with her dolls. "Agent Salve?"  
  
She looked away from her daughter for a moment, shocked at the sound of a voice behind her. She acknowledged him and smiled lightly. "She's beautiful, isn't she? Isabelle did such a wonderful job."  
  
Weiss smiled in agreement and walked towards her to gaze into the room, "She's absolutely perfect."  
  
"She's her father."  
  
"She's you." Weiss confessed. It was true. Maisie had all of the wonderful characteristics that Jeanette had. But it was still undiscovered whether or not she had her mother's resilient temper. "We both know that you're tough and that little girl, she has a mind of her own. I honestly don't think she got that from her father." He laughed lightly at his own joke. "Now, Agent Salve-"  
  
Jeanette smiled even brighter, "After all these years, Eric, you don't have to call me so formal. Cut the agent crap. Jeanette, please."  
  
Weiss nodded his head in agreement, "Fine. Jeanette, we're going back in a few hours. Jack Bristow has ordered a plane to pick us up. The only thing is that you're going to be taken into custody as soon as we get into US territory. Per orders of-"  
  
"Kendall's still a son of a bitch, isn't he?" Jeanette smiled, nodding her head in understanding. She rested her head on her hand. "It's been five years since I've walked through those hallways. I can't say I'm eager to get back." She smirked ruefully at that last remark.  
  
Weiss shared a private smile with her, "I'm gonna go and check on Isabelle."  
  
"You two finally hooked up?" She called after him after he started to rise. He quickly turned back, his eyes fairly wide with shock. "Oh come off it, Eric. Everyone saw those looks that the two of you shared as soon as Maisie was born. Grant it, I think you were pining after her a hell of a lot longer than she was you. And now that her marriage is over, you two are free to be together. It's about time." She looked after him and watched him nod in silence. He was dumbfounded by her remarkable capability to be so blunt. She still had her edge. Even after all of this time.  
  
She nodded at him slightly and made her way into the bedroom, "Hi Maisie!"  
  
@@@@@  
  
So, Sydney continued to walk to the kitchen, now hearing the sounds of Vaughn's voice talking to an invisible being.  
  
"Uh-huh. Uh-huh. No, can we make it three? Three's better for me. There are a few things I need to get down before we do this again. Yeah, I know. No, if this doesn't work, then I'm done. I don't want-no, I understand that it will mean-no, I do understand. Yes, yes of course. I'll see you at three, then. Good-bye." He clicked the phone off and starred at it in his hand for a long moment.  
  
She reached the kitchen and saw Vaughn sitting on one of her chairs with her phone pressed to his ear. His back was to her but she could see that he had showered and changed into fresh clean clothes he had found that he had left in the apartment. He was in a gray fitting t-shirt with a pair of black sweatpants. His bruises were turning from violent black and purple to a less color. "Vaughn." Every time she said his name, a small smile played on her lips. She had no clue how much he meant to her. She felt it in her heart when he left her but now that he was back in his life, she could feel it swelling in her chest more than anything else in the world.  
  
He turned around and saw her standing there, "Hey baby," and placed the phone gingerly down on the table. "What are you doing up? I thought you would sleep until noon."  
  
She rubbed her face out of exhaustion, "What time is it?"  
  
He smiled a little and turned his head to look at the clock, "It's a 11:53."  
  
"Seven minutes ahead of schedule? Hmm..." She walked more into the kitchen and found an empty coffee mug and quickly poured herself a cup of freshly made coffee. "It's strange having you back in the house."  
  
"I love being back." He smiled broadly at her, "You don't know how much I missed you." He opened his arms to her and she quickly found a place nestled in his arms, residing on his lap. He kissed her neck and wrapped his arms securely around her waist.  
  
"Oh, I have a feeling." She laughed smugly. "Who were you on the phone with?" She inquired, lacing her fingertips with his and playing with their interlocked limbs.  
  
He groaned softly as he tried to yawn but felt the pressure in his lung too great.  
  
"What did they find on the portable ultra sound they did on the plane? Hmmm?" She turned and kissed his forehead against and waited her reply.  
  
@@@@@  
  
He lay, shirtless against the cool cot in the airport as they waited to take off. He had complained of having trouble breathing and Sydney had noticed a slight wheezing that had taken place of his normal breathing. The medic applied the cool gel to his tightly toned chest. Sydney watched from her seat at near his shoulders as he sharply inhaled from the coolness against his skin. His icy emerald eyes were focused on the fuzzy little monitory and as the doctor glided the ultrasound over his chest, both their eyes narrowed at certain areas. The doctor leaned forward and whispered something in Vaughn's ear and he just shook his head in return.  
  
"Get on the phone with my doctor. Tell her what you saw and we'll deal with it then." He managed to sigh.  
  
The doctor nodded his head and took a towel to remove the gel.  
  
"What was that about?"  
  
He didn't want to worry her with the information that he had gotten. "It's not important." He choked, the tears started to build up in his eyes. He couldn't help this feeling, this total despair. The chemo hadn't been working and the tumor had not shrunk in the least. All of those nights of feeling so sick, feeling like he was dying and now, he actually was. He sat up slowly and retrieved his shirt and threw it on haphazardly. Without words, he reached forward and felt Sydney wrap her arms around him as he began to cry, unable to say anything.  
  
"Whatever it is, we'll get through it. I promise you. We're going to get through this. Look at everything we've been through. We can get through this. We're going to get through this. There's no way something like this will defeat you. I won't let you give up. We're going to get through this. I swear to you." Sydney whispered into his ear as she kissed his cheek softly. She held him tightly and rocked back and forth, whispering more reassuring phrases softly.  
  
He collapsed further and rested his head in her lap, concentrating on the empty seat in front of him. His breath hitched slightly in his chest, "Oh Syd." He managed to sigh.  
  
"I know, baby." She cooed back, running her fingers along his shoulder.  
  
@@@@@  
  
"I have another treatment today at three."  
  
She nodded at this and rested her head in his chest, "I wish we could hide from the world for a little bit. You've been through so much. I think you need a vacation." She felt her brow wrinkle in concern as she thought about everything.  
  
He smiled and ran his fingers along her worry lines. "You're picking that habit from me." The smile quickly faded from his face, "You're going to get worry lines."  
  
Sydney shrugged as if it didn't really matter and honestly, it didn't. "And you've just discovered why G-d created make-up, sweetie!"  
  
There was a lack of light shining from his eyes, "You still so bruised." He stated flatly.  
  
"Thanks for that one." She rolled her eyes and glared at him in a mocking way. "Remind me to remember that later."  
  
"They weren't that bad at the estate."  
  
"And once again, we've discovered why G-d created make-up. Your sisters have already learned it very well. And Jeanette has mastered it." She laughed lightly.  
  
@@@@@@  
  
The little girl's breath tickled her face slightly as the young brown eyes met the older similar colored ones. Her hand reached up and let her finger trail along an ancient scar that was cut across her pale skin. "What's that?" The precocious four, almost five, year old asked. Her cool fingers continued to go over it and rested at the edge of it, near her jaw line.  
  
Jeanette placed her hand on Maisie's wrist, "A very bad person did that to me."  
  
"Oh." Maisie thought about this for a long time and drew her hand away. Her brow knitted just like her father's. "Why?"  
  
She didn't know how to answer her daughter's question, "Sometimes bad things happen to good people."  
  
"So, you're good people?" She asked innocently, not knowing the background of the woman sitting in front of her.  
  
. 


	24. Will You Be My Baby?

Okay, okay Spybunny.hopefully this will make you happy!  
  
@@@@@  
  
"C'mon, we'll get dressed, go have something to eat and then we'll go to the doctor." Sydney said decidedly, taking his hand in hers and leading him towards the bedroom.  
  
"Syd, wait." He pushed his heels deep into the floor to stop her from dragging him along. "I don't think you understand how difficult the treatments are. I think I should go stay at the hotel or something so you don't have to put up with this. You don't need this right now."  
  
Without words, Sydney stepped closer to him and pressed her lips to his. It was a feather light kiss that quickly broken apart when she whispered, "Whether you like it or not, Vaughn, I'm in love with you and you are staying at this apartment after your treatment. This place is just as much mine as it yours. So, suck it up." She slipped her arm around his waist and continued to usher him towards the bedroom.  
  
"Sydney." He quietly protested.  
  
"No, I'm not going to have you puking your guts out at some hotel again. I won't have it." She remembered the sight of him sleeping in the horrible hotel room, sweating and fighting against an invisible disease.  
  
@@@@@  
  
His eyes locked on the desolate ceiling hanging above him. He wanted to be here and didn't want to be here all at the same time. "This isn't going to be a fun weekend, Syd." He admitted with a heavy sigh. His body was in the specialty created chair in the US Naval Hospital. This was the "Chemo Chair" as it was coined inventively enough. It was a black leather chair that was formed to a man comfortably reclining. There was an armrest on either side of the chair so that he could place his arms to let the IV drip comfortably into his veins. It was anything but comfortable.  
  
Sydney laughed lightly as she adjusted her weight on the little wooden chair positioned near his bed. "Well, honey...I'm just happy to have a weekend home." She crossed her arms decidedly and looked at him with that wonderful stubborn look in her eye.  
  
How he hated hospitals. He hated the smells that flooded his nostrils whenever he came within a mile of the retched place. The majority of the last few months were spent here. Having various tests being performed or check-ups or whatnot. His veins were scarred with the trials and errors of rookie nurses or privileged candy strippers who were allowed to take a hazard at finding his veins. This was his up-teenth IV.  
  
"Chemo's nasty drug." He found himself stating profoundly. "And cancer's a nasty disease."  
  
Sydney pressed her lips together firmly and felt like her words were taken from her very center. "Sometimes it takes a nasty method to rid a nasty evil."  
  
"That's how you sleep at night, isn't it?"  
  
"That's how I rationalize myself sometimes, yes." She responded in clear, even tones. She reached her hand out to touch Vaughn's pasty, dry skin.  
  
He moved his hand to touch her face lovingly, "A bad thing brought you to me."  
  
"Yes, yes it did." She propped her body up slightly and placed a feather light kiss against his lips and smiled in the wake of the sensation it left through her body.  
  
There was silence for a moment. Well, not actually silence. There was a steady beeping that pulsated along with the beating of his heart. Sydney let her eyes cast down his body and finally rest on her own worn jeans that she had chosen to throw on. She didn't know exactly what to say to him at this moment. Anything would be painful or heart wrenching or widely inappropriate. No, there was nothing that she could possibly say that would make this situation any better. It would be up to him to say something and say the right thing.  
  
"Maisie did the cutest thing before we left."  
  
And that was most definitely not the right thing, "Oh really? What?" She tried to smile broadly at the mention of the adorable little girl who had captured her heart unintentionally. Even though she was the child of her boyfriend and his boyfriend's assumed to be dead or captured ex girlfriend. Welcome to Soap Opera Central.  
  
"She walked up to me and gave me a hug and a kiss, you know..nothing unusual but then, she placed her hands on the bottom of her stomach and starred down at her hands for a moment and then up at me and asked me, "When is there going to be a baby in Tante Sydney's belly'? Now tell me Syd, what do you say to that?" He smiled at the thought of his adorable daughter yearning for another baby somewhere in the family. She was so looking forward to the birth of Isabelle's daughter and was greatly disappointed when she was a stillborn. The smile grew larger as he thought of Sydney actually being pregnant with their child and he would actually get to see this one grow up.  
  
"What did you say to her?" Sydney looked into those beautiful emerald spheres that had entangled her spirit.  
  
"I told her that I would work on it." He nodded his head, happy with his answer.  
  
Sydney raised her eyebrows, half suggestively and the other half in surprise. She cleared her throat for a moment before speaking, "Hmm.......really?"  
  
And they shared a laugh for a moment. The first laugh they shared in a long time.  
  
"Where you one of those girls who had their lives planned out by the age of ten?"  
  
"No." Her answer was confident and sounded like anything of the sort was ludicrous. Sydney ran her fingers along his, drawing invisible lines against the grain.  
  
"No? Really?" His eyes grew wide and she nodded her head in agreement.  
  
Sydney laughed, "I had my life planned by age eight. I was a very organized little girl."  
  
"Tell me about your dream life.  
  
"My dream life? Hmm..well, I think I have a bit of a split personality, even when I was a child."  
  
"Great, she's crazy. What am I doing here?" Vaughn joked, mocking an aside to an imaginary audience.  
  
She slapped his hand playfully and put up a mock expression of hurt. "Oh shut up, you! Do you want me to answer the question or not?"  
  
"Answer the question."  
  
She smiled, the idea of love filling her eyes. "My first true love was to go and just live by the ocean and just live with peacefulness of it all."  
  
His eyes closed as he rolled his head to face the small window, letting the sunlight stream in and hit his face, letting the warmness flood his sense. "Hmmm...Sounds wonderful."  
  
"And my second life....my second life was the American Dream. I wanted to be a teacher, happily married to a wonderful, loving husband with two kids-a boy and a girl-and a dog...living in a beautiful little house up in Connecticut or something alone those lines." She sighed contently as she inched her chair closer to him and pressed her free hand up to her cheek.  
  
He turned back as he felt her face against his skin, "What names were your kids?"  
  
"Malia for the girl and Aden for a boy."  
  
"Alright hotshot, your baby names?"  
  
"Lily and Christopher." He replied with a smile slowly etching on his face.  
  
She started to laugh and touched his face with her cool hand, "You said that way too quickly. I'm sorry, baby, but how long have you had this planned? Is this what you did during those ten long months without me?"  
  
He didn't bother to respond to what she just said, "She would be so beautiful. She would look like her mother."  
  
"Who, baby?"  
  
"Malia, Lily, whatever her name would be. How amazing would that be to have a little girl running around the house, singing and laughing." He laughed softly. "She would look just like her mother." His head rolled to his shoulder and looked at her with tired eyes.  
  
Sydney tried her best to hide her shock from Vaughn basically saying that he wanted to have a baby with her. She honestly didn't know what to say to him. Just to hide her shock, she pressed her hand atop his and leaned into it lovingly. She had always hoped in the back of her mind that they would eventually get married and maybe have a baby after she maybe quit the CIA or something of that sort but she had never bothered to figure out the details. Actually, she never had thought about what would happen if Vaughn came back. Never did she ever think that he would be back in her life and never in her wildest dreams did she ever picture herself sitting in a hospital, holding his hand while chemotherapy dripped into his arm and they discussed future plans. 


	25. Same Thing, Different Place

His brow was completely drenched in sweat and the compress on the back of his neck was not helping at all. His mind was completely empty of all thoughts except those damning his body and technology. The bathroom floor was cold against his skin. The liquids burned in his throat in his mouth.  
  
He felt feverish but consciously knew that he had no fever. He felt flu symptoms but knew he had no flu. This was a reaction, one he dreaded every time but now, he was in a different place with new doctors but it wasn't so different and they weren't that new. His life had become a massive circle of negations. Absolute fire was spreading through his abdomen and scorched his skin in its wake.  
  
But this time was different.  
  
This time there was someone else with him and he wasn't in some cheap hotel. She was the one holding the dampened wash cloth to the back of his neck. Her hands traced invisible circles along his lower back in effort to calm him. He was suffering so much and she hated to see him this way. They had been home for about twelve to fourteen hours since his intense chemo treatments and already, he was feeling the side effects. She had changed into a comfortable pair of sweats with a nice white t-shirt and her hair pulled away from her neck. The make-up was still there to hide the bruises but they were starting to show through as well as the bags from beneath her eyes. She was tired, there was no denying that and all she wanted to was collapse into bed and pretend like the last few weeks just didn't happen.  
  
His body leaned back onto her and he sighed heavily out of exhaustion. "I told you I shouldn't be here. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." He repeated over and over again as he tried to push away the nausea.  
  
She kissed his temper as he collapsed further into her lap, resting his head against the bottom of her ribcage, "And I told you, I'm not going to let you get out of my sight. I lost you once and I'm not going to do it again." Her hands traveled over his soothingly.  
  
"What happens when I die? You'll lose me all over again." He said, rather soberly.  
  
She suppressed the emotions that were rising dangerously in her throat as she tried to think of something to say, "We're not going to talk about that yet. You're still here, aren't you? And you're not going anywhere."  
  
"I'm dying, Sydney." He replied.  
  
"No, you're not, Vaughn." She answered, with her tone a touch fimer,  
  
"I am dying, Syd. I mean, there's going to be one morning that I don't wake up." His voice was raspy and low.  
  
"Please don't talk like that." Sydney pleaded softly.  
  
"I've been thinking about it a lot lately." His eyes reached up and stared at the crisp white ceiling. "Death. I mean, I wonder what it will be like. I'll get to see my father again, which will be nice. But I-I've been thinking about it a lot and I wonder who's gonna come to my funeral and who will mourn me and what people will say. How my mother-" His breath hitched in his throat as he remembered his mother was dead, "What my mother will look like as an angel. I wonder. I'll get to watch you go on with your life and be so happy with whatever will come and I'll get to watch Maisie grow up in the safety of Isabelle's arms. I'll get to be there for her first day of school, her first date, her first everything. And then I can haunt her boyfriend." He laughed lightly at the first part as his chest gave way to coughing. "And I'll get to watch you and make sure that you're not harmed on missions and that you'll be fine. I'll be your angel."  
  
"Please don't talk like that. You're going to be here for a while. We'll quit the CIA or I will and I'll be an English teacher and you-you can be a French teacher. We'll have a baby together and move to a house in the suburbs. And we'll have a dog and a house with a white picket fence and everything. We'll live happily ever after. The end."  
  
"But Syd, we have to think rationally about this for a moment." He ran his hand lazily, tracing circles on her exposed calf. He loved it when she was dressed down with her hair pulled back and stray pieces flying around her face. She looked so beautiful, even there.  
  
She refused to listen to logical thought at this moment. She pulled against it like a child pulling away from its mother in a crowded department store. "No. No, we don't. We are just going to sit here and muddle through this and come Monday, the world will be a brighter. You said it yourself, you've fine after the weekend."  
  
"But Sydney-"  
  
"No buts, Vaughn." She replied, her voice in that no nonsense tone she used when she spoke to people like Kendall.  
  
They fell into an uncomfortable silence for a moment. Their thoughts were in ten different places at once. He was thinking more along the times of how sick he felt at that moment and started to pray that death would come simply because life on earth was so hellish. As if without warning, he lurched forward and emptied the remaining contents of his stomach. Soon, he gave way to painful dry heaves as the bile of his stomach churned against his fragile frame, burning him from the inside out.  
  
Sydney was pulled from her painful day dreams of life without Vaughn and into the reality that she was living. Without words, she reached up and found a small cup of water. "Do you want-?" She asked as he collapsed back down against her, groaning softly.  
  
"No. No." He replied, covering his sweat covered face with his clammy hand.  
  
"Here, then let me get some of that medicine the doctor gave-" She moved to move his exhausted frame off of her body so that she could go and get the filled syringe from her purse. She balanced his shoulders in her hands as she got to her feet.  
  
"No, no." He replied again, a little firmer this time. He reached up and pulled her back down. "I want you just to sit with me and this-this will pass."  
  
She nodded sincerely and knelt down behind him and let him rest his head against her chest. She ran her fingers through his hair as she murmured soft words. "What do you want to talk about? Or do you just want to sit here and not talk or what....?" She felt her babble flow freely from her mouth no matter how hard she tried to control it.  
  
"I don't care. Just tell me something-just talk. I need to hear your voice."  
  
She thought for a long moment. She couldn't think of a thing to talk about. "Baby, I really don't know what to say to you. We've been through so much that anything would make this seem-oh baby. I just wish I could make this go away for you." The tears started to swell over her eyes and blinked slowly in an attempt to clear her eyes.  
  
He curled his body as the fire stretched through his body, "Please, just say anything. Tell me about yourself or your childhood or something. I need something to keep my mind off of this."  
  
"I used to be a dancer." She said with a thoughtful tone after reminiscing in her mind for a few minutes.  
  
"Used to be?" He repeated, his eyes fluttering closed from exhaustion. "What happened?"  
  
She leaned her head against the wall and closed her eyes as she replied. "I don't know. I graduated high school and dance, dance just lost it's place in my life. G-d how I miss it. It was wonderful. I loved pulling my hair back and throwing my dance clothes on. My mother had a dance trunk from her dancing days...and I would wear her skirts and everything...they were beautiful and she always told me she just found them somewhere but now I know that they were from her days dancing under the Russian ballet. Not many people know that the infamous Irinia Derevko was a ballet dancer. A ballet dancer." She knew that it was a dangerous topic that she was treading on and she didn't bother to over-think her train of thought. She never intended for it to turn to a conversation about her mother.  
  
"You look like a dancer." He managed to slur before leaning forward to empty the remaining stomach contents.  
  
His body had finally stopped trembling and he subsided to a restless sleep. It was only his second sleep in her apartment in nearly a year but already he looked so peaceful beneath the fluffy white comforter. She sat in a nearby chair and watched him with exhausted eyes. The door opened slowly and a familiar figure entered, holding two cups of coffee. He offered it to Sydney silently and she looked up at him and smiled, "Thanks."  
  
"Why don't we go talk in the kitchen, so we don't wake Sleeping Beauty over there." Weiss joked lightly. His eyes were anything but joyful.  
  
Sydney nodded her head slowly and got to her feet, taking one last glance at Vaughn before she exited the room. The warm coffee mug gave feeling to her numb fingertips. Her body had gone numb a long time ago. Her fingertips desperately needed feeling and her feet were somewhere beyond cold. That was the thing about it. Since the trip to the hospital, she had felt numb from head to toe. With her numbness growing, she reached the kitchen, the bright light glowing yellow.  
  
Weiss found a chair and sat down in it. "How's he doing?"  
  
She sat down and pulled her feet beneath her, "Has it always been like this? I mean, when he was alone, he was like this?"  
  
Weiss took a long sip of coffee and felt the steam hit his face. "Yeah. Every time gets a little worse, I guess. But sooner or later, they'll be something to cure him."  
  
Sydney didn't know what to do with herself. "He's dying and there's nothing I can do about it. I lose every man that I love except this time..." His voice started to trail off as the tears started to well up again.  
  
"Except?" Weiss probed, reaching out his hand to touch Sydney's hand reassuring.  
  
Her body felt like it was going to collapse, "Except Vaughn came back this time. And now, I'm losing him again." The color started to drain from her face as she realistically thought of her life without Vaughn. "I've done it once and I don't know if I can do it again. I mean, I really don't. What am I going to do without him? I mean, I didn't talk to him for that long time but that's because I was stupid. If I had know, I never would have pushed him out of my life. Why was I so stupid? How could I be so naïve? And now, I have less than a year with him." She collapsed back into her chair and starred at Weiss in horror.  
  
He had never seen her frightened about anything. This was the unbeatable Sydney Bristow and here she was, horrified. He had seen her broken and depressed but never scared. This was uncharted territory for all of them and each step down this slippery slope was more treacherous than the last. She set up her coffee cup down and her hand flew up to her mouth as she continued to think about life without him. "Have you slept at all?" When she didn't answer right away, he pushed harder, "Sydney. When's the last time you slept?"  
  
She thought carefully about this for a moment, taking time to bit down on her lip thoughtfully. "I slept until noon the day we came home and then-and then I've been up ever since." She shrugged her shoulders innocently. "I'm used to not sleeping." She quickly responded as Weiss shot her a disbelieving look. "Really, I'm fine. Weiss, I promise. I'm serious. I'm fine."  
  
Weiss got to his feet and looked at her, his hands being brought up to his hips. "You need to go get to bed and sleep."  
  
She shook her head adamantly, "Vaughn's in the bedroom."  
  
"So, you can crash on the couch. C'mon, Syd. Even you have to sleep sometime." He opened his hand to her and motioned for her to get up.  
  
She sighed heavily and got to her feet and felt the exhaustion overwhelm her body. She had been awake for over twenty-four hours. "Let me check on Vaughn first and then I'll rest my eyes on the couch. I won't sleep. I just need to rest my eyes for a minute."  
  
"Uh-huh. Whatever you say, Syd."  
  
Together they walked through the living room and to the bedroom. Weiss lagged behind in the living room to make a bed for Sydney for her to sleep on. He knew too well of her stubbornness and laughed to himself quietly as he laid out the green knitted over the cream colored couch. He knew the pain Sydney was going through. He was going to lose his best friend and all he could do was sit by and try to comfort him and his girlfriend. He sighed heavily as he threw the blanket up in the air, attempting to spread it out over the long creases of the cushions. He found some pillows and tossed them towards one side for her to rest her head on. Another heavy sigh came and he realized how tired he was.  
  
"Oh my G-d. Oh my G-d. Weiss! Weiss! Get in here! Weiss! Vaughn's not breathing!" He heard Sydney scream. He dropped the pillow from his hands and ran into the bedroom, not feeling another but panic. 


	26. Harder To Breathe

Sydney had pressed her head by his lips and listened for a breath of air. Her training snapping into gear, she pressed her mouth over his and blew air slowly into his lungs, waiting and watching for his chest to rise. Almost immediately, she pressed her fingers to his neck, praying for a pulse. It was absent. Without much thought, she started to pound hard on his chest, praying for his heart to stop beating. She didn't even realize that she had called to Weiss, panic swelling in her throat.  
  
Weiss came running in and paused slightly at the door in absolute horror. He quickly ran to Vaughn's paling body. "He's-"  
  
"I need you to dial 911. We have to get him to the hospital."  
  
She didn't even know how long she was breathing for him or how long it took the ambulance to get there. The world seemed to blur together and she felt like her heart was stopping along with his. Her mouth ran dry and all she could concentrate on was the fact that he was slipping through her hands and there was nothing she could do about it. It was a blur when the paramedics got there. The world started to spin when one of them literally pulled her off of him and let them take over. She didn't remember following them into the ambulance and she didn't remember pulling out her ID badge when they refused to let her come in. She couldn't recall the troubled glances the paramedic shot her when he thought she wasn't looking or the look of shock of the paramedic when Sydney uttered, "You don't understand. He's the first one that wasn't killed because of me. You can't let him go."  
  
It was only beneficial that she didn't remember sitting in the tiny rig, with her hands clasped helpless on her lap and her eyes filling with tears. She had been trained better for this and all of that training went to hell in a hand basket. She was compartmentalizing and knew that she would never remember any of these memories. If she ever needed to, she could always do some intense training to resurface these forgotten times but then again, why would she?  
  
"Is he your husband, ma'am?" The black hair EMT queried, his eyes jumping back and forth between the monitors watching his heartbeat and his breath and Sydney's glassy eyes. They were on their way to the US Naval Hospital. The same hospital Vaughn was held at with the dreaded virus. They were CIA affiliated.  
  
"No." She kept her answers short and to the point. She started to wring her hands together but promptly stopped as she realized her horrid habit.  
  
Is there anyone out there 'Cause it's getting harder and harder to breath  
  
"Is there a primary illness here or is it completely unknown why he-"  
  
"He has a stage three cancerous tumor in his left lung and had been undergoing intense chemotherapy for it." She drew quiet and felt her own breath playing over her lips and immediately she felt guilty, "He was diagnosed about twenty months ago. And now, he's dying."  
  
Is there anyone out there 'Cause it's getting harder and harder to breath  
  
"We'll take good care of him, Agent Bristow."  
  
Like a little girl that hides her face To the monster that lives in her dreams Is there anyone out there 'Cause it's getting harder and harder to breath  
  
She stood outside the swinging doors and promised herself that he would open his eyes. She had watched the doctors work feverishly on him, shocking his heart back to beating and they inserted a tube down his throat to protect his airway. They shouted terms in a foreign language that fell on her deaf ears. He was breathing again and his heart was beating. That the beeping of the heart monitor would never become one solid noise or stop all together. She swore to herself that she would see those beautiful green eyes that she had come to love dozens of more times and she would be able to kiss his lips and everything would be right with the world. Now, she just waited with her hand tightly clasped near her throat. He wasn't opening his eyes but he was breathing again...for now at least. The doctor said something about excess fluid gathering around the tumor. She understood it all but that wasn't where her focus was. The doctor had left the room for a moment, as he was stable for now and turned to care for another, more critical patient. One nurse, who stood barely five feet tall with short red hair, was left to monitor his vitals and make sure that all the tests were ordered.  
  
The doctor had came out, covered in aqua blue scrubs, and spoken to her in low tones. "Mrs. Vaughn?"  
  
She shook her head, "Sydney Bristow. I'm his-his girlfriend." She crossed her arms over her chest and studied her feet for a good long moment. "What's going on?" Her tone was level and surprisingly calm.  
  
He inhaled deeply before replying, "Ms. Bristow, I'm Doctor Thomas Kelly. It appears that the tumor has caused some fluid build up in his lungs and around his heart. His heart developed an irregular rhythm but we managed to shock it back to normal." He nodded his head satisfactorily and waited for her to respond.  
  
"Okay." Her brow furrowed in deep concentration. "Is he going to make it?"  
  
The doctor nodded gravely, "It's really touch and go for right now but we are confident that if he remains stable, he should pull through this with flying colors."  
  
"So this means that the treatment didn't work....the tumor's this large and is causing all this...the treatment's not working?"  
  
"I'm afraid not, Ms. Bristow. It was an experimental treatment at best but I know he and Doctor Marshall were working on a more long term plan." He watched her face fall and twist into more concern. "Is there anyone I can call for you? A relative? Friend?"  
  
She collapsed into her subconscious for a moment as she thought of who she could possible call and who could possible comfort her at this moment. "No-there's no one."  
  
Bells, whistles and alarms started screaming out causing her jump high in the air. Her heart stopped beating as her brain racked with what was going on. She had no clue and only felt fear in her heart. She knew exactly what was going on and she quickly found herself praying that it wasn't reality.  
  
She looked at the doctor with wide eyes and found herself saying, "He's been through so much. Don't let him die. He means the world to me." Her own voice surprised her. She didn't think she could speak if she tried. Shock was setting in deep. The world wasn't this cruel and life wasn't this much of a bitch. *No. No. No. No.*  
  
Doctor Kelly ran into the room and started shouting anyone in the room. A flurry of activity followed. Doctors and nurses from every corner of the hospital rushed towards Vaughn's failing body and start to shock his heart again back to life. It had stopped again but wait- that wasn't the only thing wrong. The word hemorrhaging came rushing through the air. Sydney recognized that word. *Oh my G-d.*  
  
"Type and cross eight type specific!" "Notify the OR that we're coming up!" "Get Doctor Marshall from NYU on the phone!" "Get surgery down here now! They need to know what's going on with this one!"  
  
They burst from the trauma room and started rushing down the hallway. Her feet followed after them, her hand reached out in question. The only thing that she actually understood was something about internal bleeding. She followed, desperate for information. "What's going on?" She was surprised to hear her own voice call out.  
  
"Come along, Ms. Bristow. We're taking him to the OR for some immediate surgery. Kate, take her up the waiting room." Dr. Kelly responded, frantically hitting the elevator button in the hallway. He tapped his feet impatiently and continued to bark instructions to the nurses standing by.  
  
"Is this Mr. Vaughn?" Another male doctor appeared from nowhere.  
  
"Yes!" Sydney gasped for air.  
  
"You the wife?" He turned to her, dressed head to toe in blue scrubs. He was a handsome man that stood at her height. He was completely bald but had bright blue eyes that sparkled with the intent of surgery.  
  
"No. I'm the girlfriend."  
  
That seemed so trivial. *I'm a girlfriend.* Lord, that seemed like such a high school word. They had a more intimate relationship than that. He was less of a husband and more than a boyfriend. Is there a word to tell the difference? No. But there should be. She was something so much more....she wished she was his wife. She wanted to be Mrs. Vaughn. She needed to be Mrs. Vaughn. And she hated how she felt that need.  
  
He was handed a chart and quickly signed off on it. "I'm Dr. Cason and I will be saving your boyfriend's life today. So hold on tight. This is going to be a bumpy ride. You ready?"  
  
"Do anything to save him."  
  
"Will do. Someone take her up to the OR waiting room!"  
  
Never had her feet moved faster with her heart racing harder. She was ushered up the stairs and put in a sterile looking waiting room by Kate, the little red head nurse. She was left alone and felt so desolate. She looked around the room, frantic to find something to keep her attention. It was then that she saw through the large bay window, Vaughn being rushed down the hallway into the operating room. She turned back slowly, her hands reaching her hips and staying there for a moment. It was then, as she gazed upon the sterile room that she saw visions running through her mind that shook her to her core.  
  
@@@@@  
  
She was dressed all in black, her mother's pearls fasted on her collar bone. Her make-up was barely done with water proof mascara doting her eye lashes. Tears slide down her cheek as she reached forward and sprinkled dirt over the grave. Everyone was there from the agency and all of her friends and his friends were there too. Isabelle came with Maisie, both dressed in black from head to toe and Claire was there was a stern looking man, who introduced himself as Tom. All of his friend's were there and black cloaked them as well. She shut her eyes for a moment and felt more tears escape her eyes. She didn't hear the priest's words and she didn't have to. She knew what a wonderful man he was and how he would be missed. She didn't need to hear a man who barely knew him say it.  
  
Will and Juliana, his beautiful wife, were there with their two children, Sophia and Joey. The two children instantly bonded with little Maisie, who was naïve to the fact that her biological mother was off somewhere in Africa and unable to come to her biological father's funeral. The three beautiful children giggled and laughed in the warm sun that had risen high in the air as people came over to Sydney to pay their respects. They had all sent flowers or food and she knew it would be a long time before she would have to really cook again. She sighed heavily as she spotted her father, who came towards her an embraced her tightly.  
  
"When does the pain go away, Daddy?" She whispered in his shoulder.  
  
"It takes a long time, sweetheart." He replied, talking into her hair, his own heart breaking at the sight of her. He had been in her place before and knew how much it burned. He wasn't there the first time with Danny or the second with Noah but third time's a charm and with Vaughn, he was there to dry her tears.  
  
"It hurts so bad." She started to cry again.  
  
"I know, sweetheart. I know."  
  
@@@@@  
  
She looked around at her surroundings for a little bit and settled on a uncomfortable blue upholstered chair. She propped her head up on her hands, resting on her elbows. What was toe become of her now? She didn't know what to do or where to turn. No one was there yet to comfort her and no words would be comforting. Finally, out of desperation, she started to pray to anyone that would listen.  
  
Now that was not typical of her. She never prayed. She barely believed in a heaven or a hell. Honestly, she felt like she was living in hell sometimes. It was hard to believe in religion when her job called for her to kill people on a weekly basis. But now, she felt like the world was coming to an end and karma was a bitch. Her stomach ached so badly with sympathy pains and she felt like she was going to burst from end to end. Her heart had never hurt this much before. The fact that her lover's body was revolting against her bad her sick. The tears didn't flow easily over her cheek bones as she thought they would but the raw emotions were still there.  
  
"Oh Sydney!" A familiar male voice sounded in triumph at finally finding the one person he was looking for in this crazy place.  
  
She looked up slowly, startled by the voice. It was the last one that she expected to hear. "Will." She ran her hands underneath her eyes subconsciously. The tears never did come but the redness was still evident. The swelling was back and she felt like she was back at square one.  
  
"Eric called your dad and then your dad called me to come down. He said that he got tied up with something.." His voice trailed off slowly as he looked hard at Sydney. "I'm so sorry, Syd." He walked over to her slowly and attempted to sit down beside her.  
  
"She's getting so big." Sydney nodded tearfully at the little girl asleep in Will's arms. She sat up more and threw her body back in the chair, "Your little Sophia."  
  
"Yeah, I'm sorry I had to bring her. Julia's working again and she's got her hands full with Joey." He laughed slightly at the thought of his precocious little boy asking every question in the world to his overworked but beautiful mother. He managed to nestle into the chair next to her and adjusted his little princess in his arms.  
  
"Don't worry about it. You know how much I love her. She's absolutely beautiful, Will." The knot in her throat tied itself tighter as she thought about the little girl she and Vaughn had talked about. Little Lilly or Malia. Her little baby girl. Feeling like she was in too much pain, she rested her head on his shoulder, feeling the unwilling tears fill her eyes at last.  
  
He leaned forward and kissed the top of her head, "I came as soon as I heard. How's he doing?" He took his free arm and wrapped it around her shoulders, allowing her to sink in further. When was the last time she was being held and not doing the holding?  
  
She shrugged her shoulders and ran her hand over the sleeping child's back affectionately, "I don't know. His heart stopped beating again and they took him upstairs for surgery and-and Will-what-what-what am I going to do if he doesn't make it? I can't wake up alone tomorrow. I've done it too many times and maybe it's selfish of me but I don't want him to leave me. I don't think I will make it." She didn't know where to go or where to turn. All she knew was that her heart was breaking as his was stopping. She felt like she couldn't control her actions, even if she tried. She was too tired to try to use her training to shut down and all she wanted to do was curl into a little ball and die there. Death was now something she didn't fear and was on her mind a lot. He was dying and she felt like she was. It was all fair in love and war.  
  
"How are you doing?" He asked, raising in eyebrows in concern.  
  
"He's dying and there's nothing I can do about it." She admitted bluntly. "It's just like this massive-massive...I don't know where I'm going with this. He's dying and I'm sitting on my butt doing nothing."  
  
"There's nothing you can do about it, Sydney."  
  
"I know and that's the part I hate about it. I hate sitting on my ass and not doing a thing about it!" Her voice raised slightly and she quickly found herself being choked by the stubborn tears that refused to fall earlier.  
  
"I know." He managed to whisper.  
  
"We-we were talking about our future and everything-getting married and having children and at best, he'll be given twenty to twenty-four months. That's not long enough to have a marriage and raise a baby. At worse, he could be dead. He could be dead." Her voice was shaking now and she could barely say the last phrase. She gulped a lungful of air and felt it hitch in her chest. "Vaughn could be dead."  
  
"But he's not. The doctors are working so he will be here for a long time. Don't worry, Sydney. Don't worry." He tried to say in a reassuring tone but he knew that he was failing miserably.  
  
"It's so hard not to. Telling me not to worry is like telling me not to breathe. I've been with Vaughn and then I've been away from Vaughn and then I've been with Vaughn again and let me tell you, I like being with him better than being without him." Her voice crackled against the emotion.  
  
He nodded in silent agreement. He knew the feeling of a broken heart too well and felt a loss of words. He was one of the lucky ones in life. He had found his love. Honestly, he loved Julia more than he ever expected to. He never meant to fall in love and fall in love so fast. Julia was this amazing woman that he worked at his job that the agency had helped get him. They felt guilty about the whole heroin drug bust fiasco and arranged a reporter job for him. (The owner of the paper owed Jack some favors. It pays to know some people sometimes.) But Julia was a reporter who had been with them since the beginning and was the first one to really welcome Will. They hit off almost immediately and became good friends. They were sitting around in Julia's new apartment, christening it with a bottle of champagne. After almost finishing the bottle, Julia reached over and kissed Will. And talk about a kiss that changed everything. Sparks immediately flew and before they knew it, they were engaged and about a nine months later, they were married. Within a year, Joey was born and four years later, Sophia was born. It had been a whirlwind ten years.  
  
"When will everything work out for me?" She moaned in self pity but quickly caught herself. She groaned even louder and covered her face in Will's shirt. "I don't understand the way the world works. It's like, as soon as I think I'm happy-that I know I'm happy-something manages to screw me over royally. 'Let's bite Sydney in the ass' the spiteful and vindictive fates cry!"  
  
"Okay, okay....no more Greek mythology for you, Ms. Bristow." Will managed to laugh lightly, his blue eyes sparkling for the briefest instant.  
  
"Point well taken."  
  
The collapsed into comfortable silence for a long time. She kept her head on his shoulder and felt like her body was falling beneath her. Somewhere a long the lines, Weiss showed up and sat beside her.  
  
"Hiya Syd."  
  
"Hey." She replied, her voice extremely raspy and full of emotion.  
  
"How's it going?"  
  
She laughed ruefully, "Life sucks."  
  
"Yeah it does." He responded quickly.  
  
"What time is it?" Will asked after a while, he adjusted the weight of his still sleeping daughter in his arms.  
  
"Almost eight thirty." Weiss replied.  
  
Someone in the middle of all of this, Julia showed up and took the very awake Sophia home, sending her condolences to Sydney. They stood up and hugged tightly. They were the only two in that room that could possible understand what Sydney was feeling. After a brief conversation in low tones, Julia left with Sophia, leaving Will, Weiss, and Sydney sitting there with fresh coffee in their paper cups.  
  
Every once and a while, they would glance at the door and hope that there was a doctor at the door. Finally, after what felt like hours, Doctor Cason appeared at the door. "Miss Bristow?"  
  
Her head shot up and she soon found her body being propelled forward to meet the tall standing doctor. "Yes?"  
  
"He's out of surgery. It went well-"  
  
"But?" She sensed something in him.  
  
"But the treatment was 100% successful. The tumor hasn't grown in size but then again, it hasn't shrunk-"  
  
"The treatment didn't work?" the heavy statement hit her like a mac truck.  
  
The doctor shook his head remorsefully.  
  
"Were you able to stop the hemorrhaging? Is he going to make it?'  
  
The doctor smiled sadly at her eagerness and wealth of medical information. "Miss Bristow, Mr. Vaughn came out of surgery well. We managed to remove part of the tumor that we weren't able to before. In all, it was relatively successful. I don't know about the future, but I do know that he'll be up in a bit and you can see him then. For now, why don't you go down to the cafeteria and get yourself something to eat. It's nearly three in the morning."  
  
"Doctor-"  
  
"Miss Bristow, if I may, you won't be much good to Mr. Vaughn if you are exhausted. Go down to the cafeteria and get yourself cup of coffee and a muffin. Lois is working tonight and she makes good donuts."  
  
She looked at him hard and then nodded softly before watching him return the gesture and walk away, his blue scrubs swaying back and forth in his stride. She turned back towards her two friends and found them standing with a look of hope and concern crossing their countenances. "I don't know." The tears were now falling free from her face as she staggered towards the two men that equally embraced her and kissed her forehead, rubbing her back saying soothing phrases. "I don't know if he's going to be okay. I want him to be okay. Oh my..." Her voice trailed off and she found herself being ushered into a nearby seat, with Will kneeling before her, holding her hands and Weiss holding her in his arms. It was just as hard on them as it was on her. Weiss was taking this particularly well, all things considering. They sat there for a while and found themselves wrapped up in silence once again. Silence was better than any word.  
  
Of our father's love begotten 'ere the world began to be He is Alpha and Omega He the source the ending he Of that the things that have been And let future years shall be Ever more and ever more  
  
-'Hope for Resolution' 


	27. Alice Hated It

I'm sorry I made some of you tear up! It was a necessary evil but don't put the Kleenex away just yet. We're getting down to the wire (I think five more chapters and we're done!) and there's still one major turn in events that none of you see coming (or at least I think none of you see coming)  
  
He kept his eyes closed and wished he could turn the clock back. Yes, turning the clock back at this particular moment would most definitely be a good thing. This had to be the worst hang over in his life. This was one of those 'please-oh-G-d-make-this-end-now-and-I-promise-promise-promise-to- be-good' hangover. He was back together with Alice. But he thought adamantly on how he didn't have THAT much to drink. Wait, no...*Okay, I admit it. I was plastered* he thought and he sighed under the mask of closed eyes. This would not be a good thing. They had broken up for good reason and now they were almost back to square one. Why had they broken up? you may find yourself asking. Well, Alice hated his lifestyle. She wanted a real boyfriend and he wanted a real life. He had gone out with her and they had become serious until he broke it off. And now, they were back together. They got to talking at a party the other night and as much as he hate to admit it, he was a little on the drunk side and they ended up getting back together and getting back into their old routines.  
  
Alice was Alice. She was safe and sweet and..okay, she was a little boring. She was not stunning but her touch was comfortable with the exception of her nails. Vaughn felt his body cringe at the remembrance of Alice's long, acrylic nails tracing the outline of his tattoo on his left shoulder. It was worse than nails on a chalkboard, pardon the pun. He shuddered and his mind back to how much his body hurt. It hurt to take a breath.  
  
Something about this whole situation didn't feel right. His eyes fluttered open and he immediately recognized his surroundings.  
  
Oh crap.  
  
He knew he had felt like this before but this wasn't the same reason. He wasn't hung over. He was coming out the anesthesia in a disgusting hospital. He groaned as he vividly remembered what happened the last time he really felt this way. As you can probably guess, it was when he got back together with Alice. But now, he couldn't figure out why he was here.  
  
The lights in the ICU were dim, almost black and the only thing blinking was a little clocked that proudly glowed 4:59. He was attached to all sorts of machines. His heart was being monitored, he had three or four IV's, and he had a tube running above his lip, delivering pure oxygen through his nose. He had to admit, he didn't exactly look attractive. "Please don't let Sydney see me like this." He closed his eyes and prayed quickly. If he knew her and he did, she would be there with that horrified look at her face. He saw her in his mind's eye and hated what he saw. He had seen that look of horror and sympathy a multitude of times. Once, it was the Joint Task Force medical ward. It was her sitting on the bed across from him. It was when the doctor had told her that she was fine...she hadn't been directly exposed but he, something was wrong with his blood- work. This horrified look came over her face as the doctor told her to go......told her to leave him. Then there was a look when she confronted him about the cancer...and she learned the truth.  
  
With the exception of the familiar beeping of the machine, there was absolute silence. And part of him, wished that the machine would stop beeping. Sure, that would mean that he would die but it would be easier to die a quick, painless death rather than a horrifying death that he had read about.  
  
Breathe in and out.  
  
He opened his eyes fully and felt the sleepiness drain from his eyes. There was Sydney sitting on a chair, with her head rested on his bed and her hands wrapped around his. He smiled softly and gripped his hand, clasped in hers, tighter. "Hey you." He managed to speak. He watched her eyes open slowly and her come to terms with her surroundings. She looked so beautiful with her hair astray and no make-up on.  
  
"You yourself." She pulled herself closer to him. "How are you feeling?" Her hand flew up to his face and caressed it softly.  
  
He shivered slightly and leaned into her warm hand. This hospital gown did not leave much fabric for warmth and her touch was the only source of heat. "It's five o'clock in the morning. You should be home sleeping." The tone of his voice scolded her and not answering his question.  
  
"Couldn't sleep." She felt like she was a five year old that got her hand caught in the cookie jar. "I'm worried about you, whether you like it or not. The doctors said you came out of surgery well. You went through with flying colors. How did you sleep?" She crept up towards him and pulled the blanket around his shoulders. A small smile started to appear on her face as she realized how peaceful he looked. She felt her heart breaking at the realization that she would have to tell him that the treatment that brought him through hell was not working and he was racing against the clock.  
  
He wanted to be honest with her. He wanted to tell her how he loved her and how afraid he was that he would die and never wake and see their children. He wanted to tell her that everything was going to be okay and that he was going to outlive everyone else on the planet. But a partial truth escaped his lips. "I've had better nights."  
  
"Yeah." She sighed and rested her head on her hands that were propped up on her knees.  
  
"You didn't sleep?"  
  
"I didn't sleep."  
  
Even in his groggy state, he could still lecture her. "You shouldn't be worried abut me, Syd. This is the way it goes. I think it will be all over soon, though. This treatment will work." He tried to sound convincing but knew it was falling on deaf ears. She was going to worry about him regardless and if anything had happened, she would know about the treatment not working.  
  
"I know but still. It doesn't stop me from worrying about you."  
  
"And it never stops me from worrying about you." Vaughn tilted his head to the side. He managed to smile but soon a small laugh gave way to a fit of coughing. "You make me nervous sometimes when you're out on those missions. I worry."  
  
"I'm always safe." Sydney responded and watched his tired green eyes flicker with every breath. She straightened up and starred at him for a moment. She opened her mouth to speak but quickly decided against it.  
  
"What?" he asked drowsily.  
  
Sydney forced herself to laugh. It filled the space between them. She was exhausted and tried not to let it show. She had to assume it was the drugs talking. He was on very high doses of morphine to numb is failing body. "You spent all that time worrying about me and now, the tables have turned."  
  
"Yeah, I guess that's true."  
  
They sank into silence for a little bit. She had grown used to be silent. Sometimes it was better not to say anything and let her own breath and beating heart make enough conversation. She started to wish that her heart would correspond with his and they could pulsate together.  
  
"What happened? Why am I here?" He managed to ask after a while.  
  
She cleared her throat and inched closer to him, "Well, the tumor in your lung caused some fluid build up and some hemorrhaging. You stopped breathing and your heart stopped but they rushed you into emergency surgery and they managed to remove some of it." She finished and watched his reaction carefully. She was sure to mention every detail and was satisfied with her response.  
  
He felt like he was suckered punch, "Is the treatment working?" All those nights were wasted. He had been a slaved through the depths of his spirit and forced to stay there.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Vaughn." She managed to whisper. She let her hands fly to his face and held his head in her hands for a moment. "We're going to get through this, okay? We're going to get through this."He could only think about how the treatment hadn't worked and he was dying. Vaughn started to cry. "Don't be afraid. You're gonna be fine. You're gonna be fine." She moved from her chair to the corner of the bed and ran her hands over this forehead, attempting to reassure him the same way that Weiss and Will had tried to reassure him.  
  
He felt her nails but didn't cringe at her nails. Her touch was sweet and simple. He loved her more than anything and felt like he didn't tell her that enough. They lost over ten months together and now they were fighting the clock. He was dying and he didn't know how to tell her that. "Please don't leave."  
  
She fought the tears coming rapidly to her eyes. "I'm not going anywhere."  
  
"I just need you to stay for a few minutes. I'm..I'm....I'm scared. I don't want to die." He admitted this to her and felt her kiss his forehead, her lips lingering there for a moment.  
  
"You're gonna be fine." Her voice started to shake as she sat back up and looked at him, her fingers continually combing through his hair.  
  
"If I...if I die...I want you to know-" He attempted to keep his voice steady.  
  
"Vaughn, please don't talk like that."  
  
It wouldn't be so bad to get into an argument with her. She was fun to argue with. She was that girl in high school that did so much and was so outspoken, every guy had a crush on her but would never ask her out because they were scare that she would scream or threaten a debate on women's rights issues. No, he had to keep his voice strong as he said this. "If I die, I want you to know that I wouldn't change anything. I would never change joining the CIA or becoming your handler. I wouldn't change a thing." Tears started to glaze over his eyes and one threatened to roll down his cheek. "I love you more than anything else in this world. I would throw myself in front of a moving train to keep you safe. I love you, Sydney Bristow."  
  
Her face was already moist with tears..tears he wanted so desperately to wipe them away. She wanted to say something....anything. "I love you too, Michael Vaughn."  
  
"You called me Michael." He grinned his lopsided grin as his eyes started to flutter close. He didn't realize how tired he was. He held onto her again. His body shook from the pain he was admit. Each breath hurt in its wake. "Stay for just a few minutes...I don't need sleep that badly. I was asleep for.....I don't need sleep." Vaughn repeated again, his eyelashes were fluttering.  
  
She slithered down and lay beside him, his head resting on her shoulder. She pulled the blanket up further to cover up his neck after she untangled her hands from his. "I'll stay until you fall asleep, how's that?"  
  
"Quoi s'agit-il?" He murmured quietly as his eyes started to close. *What's it all about?"  
  
"Il s'agit d'amour." Sydney responded, resting her head on the uncomfortable pillow.  
  
"Yeah," he sighed contently. "It's all about love." He took one last look at her and his eyes fluttered shut. He was out cold.  
  
She lay there for a moment, listening to his breath and watching his chest rise and fall. He was so peaceful when he slept. She sat in the hospital almost alone but she had Vaughn right in her owns hands and all she could do was sit there and hold onto him tightly. As she watched him drift off into the quiet, drug induced sleep, she thought of the conversation she had had before she had the courage to venture into the room.  
  
"Sydney." A steel voice broke out through the noise of the hospital as Sydney stood motionless in front of the large glass window.  
  
She turned around and saw her father, perfectly pressed black suit, standing there. "Dad?" She rushed to his side and into his arms. "I thought you were tied up with work."  
  
"I was. Now I'm not." He replied simply, wrapping his arms around his daughter. "What is Vaughn's condition?"  
  
She stepped back slightly and looked up at her father, "It'll be fine. It'll be fine" she lied and shook her hand dismissing any idea that everything was less than peaches and cream.  
  
Jack looked at her hard and then nodded coldly. "Yes, I'm sure that's true." He recognized this more than he recognized anything else in his world. This was the first stage of grieving. His daughter was in absolute denial of what was going on. He watched her turn back to the window, saying something about going in to see him soon and he was left to wonder when she was going to accept what was going on. And he wasn't sure if he wanted to be there when she did. If she was anything like him, she would crash hard, just like he did.  
  
Back in the present, Sydney moved away from the bed to find an uncomfortable chair to curl up in and without much thought, drifted into an uncomfortable sleep. 


	28. Of Friends and Acquaintances

This chapter is a little more Weiss centered. I didn't plan for this chapter originally and I don't know how good it is but the concept was kinda interesting (or at least I thought so.) So, happy reading! ½ box of Kleenex will be needed for this chapter! Three more chapters after this one! (If I don't decide to add anymore) I hafta say, I did not intend for this story to be so long. There were a lot of twists and turns that even I didn't think of until I was seriously writing it. Believe it or not, the first chapter just started out as a creative writing assignment. We were given an object....I was given a set of American flag stamps. So, if you read in the first chapter, read carefully for the stamps!  
  
Happy reading!  
  
The two men sat in absolute silence. They didn't know what to say to each other and nothing was appropriate. The sterile hospital smell clouded both their senses and made their conception of reality hazy.  
  
"So um....how long do you think he has?" The blonde man spoke finally taking his weight off of his knees and leaning back into the hospital room. Sydney had left what felt like ages ago and with her, the topics too talk about.  
  
"I don't know. I don't know." Repeated the dark hair man. This was extremely difficult on him. He sighed heavily. It seemed to be the only thing he could do. Yes, sighing was the easiest thing to do at this moment.  
  
Will watched the other man rise from his sitting position and start to pace around the room. Will, though, decided to stay seated and spoke softly, "I hate this helpless feeling. I want to help them so badly and all I can do is sit here and tell Syd it's gonna be okay and I don't know if it is. She was hurt so badly when he left and I don't know how she's going to survive if he-if he dies?"  
  
Weiss looked at him hard, "I hated him for the longest time." He needed to get these feelings off of his chest so badly. They had eaten away at him for so long and if he didn't say something soon, he was going to explode.  
  
"You what?" Will's eyebrows shot up in disbelief. The dry tone of the other man shocked him to his core. There was a deep rooted emotional disturbance.  
  
"I hated him for such a long time for getting sick. I blamed him for his illness. I hated what he did to Sydney and everyone else. And then I had to keep this from everyone and I had no time to react. I had to keep everything bottled up when I was losing my best friend right before my eyes."  
  
"No one had any idea what was going on." Will replied softly. He brought his hands up to his eyes and covered them to block out the blinding light. "No one had any idea."  
  
Weiss turned away from him, his hands resting on his hips as a flood of memories came back, haunting him. He and Vaughn had been through so much together. "When we were training at the farm, Vaughn and I went out one weekend to a local bar. There were girls everyone. Everywhere you looked there were women, knowing that there was a CIA training ground around there somewhere."  
  
"Good night for the two of you then?" Will laughed lightly behind closed eyes.  
  
"No, actually."  
  
"No?" He brought his hand down and looked at the other man with lightly spirited eyes.  
  
"No. Vaughn was lusting after Jeanette at that time and refused- REFUSED to look at anyone whose name wasn't Jeanette Alicia Salve. I mean, there was alcohol everywhere-women everywhere...basically a guarantee that you would go home with someone-and he would not look at any of them. I remember this. He sat the bar, with his whisky sour, the only thing he would drink, and just stared at it for hours. I mean, we must've been there for hours while I tried to pick of this one chick. Yo, this girl was awesome. She had long blonde hair and let's just say she was gifted in all areas." Weiss turned back towards Will and smiled. "Mike was always faithful."  
  
"There's 'but' there, isn't there?" Will replied.  
  
Weiss took a slow breath in. "After the Jeanette fiasco, there was a series of girls that you definitely do not want to know about and then he met Alice Lipton. She was the daughter of an elementary school teacher and an accountant. Nice girl. She was a nice girl, pretty, and she and Mike had a relatively happy relationship."  
  
"Relatively happy?"  
  
"Well, he met Sydney and it all went to hell faster than you can say CIA. He loved Alice unconditionally but Sydney changed everything for worse. Do you know how many times we had a conversation about her over beers? Enough to get him to drink beer and like it too."  
  
"Sydney was that much of a problem for Vaughn?"  
  
"You have no idea how much he loves her. I didn't think that someone could fall for a girl so hard."  
  
Will chuckled lightly at this statement, "You have no idea."  
  
Weiss started to pace slightly, concentrating on the soft blue carpeting of the surgical waiting room. "You sound like you have experience."  
  
"When you fall for a girl like Sydney, expect your whole world to crash down around you." The memories of all of those nights that he lay in bed longing for her touch came soaring back. He remembered how he couldn't stand to be in the same room as her without being right next to her. He couldn't stand the way she could see through him with those piercing brown eyes. He remembered when he admitted to himself that he loved her. He remembered when he admitted to himself that she would never be his. He remembered when he admitted to himself that it was time to let her go. To go and be with Vaughn.  
  
"Did you and Syd ever-" Weiss had never known any history between Sydney and Will. Whenever a romantic entity came up between her and Vaughn, Vaughn would just chose to throw things or curse and scream a lot or clam up. It was normally the latter.  
  
"We kissed. Twice." (as per a deleted scene courtesy of SEASON ONE DVD) "Once we were drunk and it just happened. The second time, I kissed her.she didn't kiss back and it killed me. I mean, I wanted to jump off of the nearest building." He chuckled again and crossed his arms over his chest. He slunk deeper into the chair and shook his head ruefully. "Once you fall for Sydney Bristow, your whole world changes. Nothing's ever the same."  
  
Weiss sighed heavily and looked back at Will with clear eyes. "That's what Mike kept saying."  
  
"This has been tough on you, I'm assuming." Will spoke in a sudden low tone.  
  
Weiss found his seat next to Will and looked at him hard. "I-uh I never knew how to react to any of it. I remember when he told me-told me he had the cancer. It just felt terrible and I remember just falling apart at the seams. But I don't remember crying or anything like that. I can remember stupid stuff. Like what color tie I was wearing or what song was playing on the radio but I can't remember what I said to him..." Weiss trailed off and let his eyes filled with tears that had never fallen before. He clasped his hands in his lap and stared at them intently. He stopped talking for a minute while he got his thoughts together, "I keep telling Sydney that everything will be okay and it'll all work out but the catch is, I don't believe any of it. I mean, I'm losing my best friend right in front of my eyes and all I can do is sit here and pretend that the world is full of lollipops and gumdrops."  
  
Will took a moment to digest all of this, "Life is a bitch, isn't it?"  
  
"I don't know what I'm going to do when he dies." Weiss nodded his head solemnly, "He's my best friend and without him, I don't know what's going to happen with anything. I don't know anything anymore." He sighed heavily and looked down at his hands clasped in his hands again.  
  
Will replied the sigh with an even deeper sigh and looked down at his watch, "Wow. It's getting late. Jules' is gonna where I am. Tell Sydney that I'll talk to her tomorrow, okay?" He rose slowly and started to walk towards the door.  
  
"Yeah. Sure. Later, man." Weiss replied slowly before leaning his head back against the back of the chair.  
  
Will stopped and looked at him hard, the emotions swelling up in the back of his throat, "I'm really sorry about everything that's going on. Really, man, I'm sorry."  
  
Weiss nodded with a sad smile etched on his face, "I'll tell Sydney that you had to leave."  
  
Will didn't say anything. Instead, he walked out awkwardly into the sterile white hallway.  
  
So, Weiss was left there all alone for a while with his thoughts for a while. He didn't know what to do with himself. He still couldn't believe that he was going to lose his best friend. It had sunk in to a certain degree but he didn't know how he was going to react at the funeral. How do you react to the passing of your best friend? He had so many unanswered questions but he didn't know where to get the answers. He felt his breath flutter over his lips and got to his feet. It was really late or really early. He couldn't tell. But he could tell that he was desperate need of a good cup of coffee.  
  
Not quite sure where he was going, he started to walk the halls, his feet scuffing on the linoleum floors. He trusted his hands into his pockets and starred down at the floor intently. He tired to shake off these emotions. He worked for the CIA, for goodness's sake. He should be able to cope with death better than he was. He had killed more men than he would like to count in the field. He pressed his lips together tightly and felt his brow furrow in despair. He picked his head up as he passed a slew of windowed rooms.  
  
"Sydney, you really need to get home and get some rest. You being exhausted isn't going to help Mike any." Weiss spoke is low tones sometime in the early hours of the morning. He had made his way to Vaughn's hospital room, without really realizing it and found his best friend lying there with Sydney curled up on a chair nearby. The sight of Vaughn lying there took the breath out of him but he quickly recovered. He slowly pushed the door open and crept in without making much of a sound.  
  
She picked her head up and rested head on her knees, curled up tightly beneath her. "Yeah well...." She drifted off as she unfolded her legs from beneath and got to her feet.  
  
"You haven't slept well in how many nights? I'll bring you home and you'll sleep and you'll be fine." He offered his hands to her as he walked towards her. "You're not going to help Mike any by not sleeping."  
  
She sat up slowly and placed her feet on the floor. She reached her hands up towards Weiss and pulled him down to eye level. He crouched down in front of her and just starred straight into her eyes. She stared into the brown eyes that she had taken for granted for so long. Those eyes held so much emotion that he refused to let show. He was holding it all in. There was resentment, anger, compassion, sorrow and depression all rolled into the swirling brown spheres. She let go of his hands and managed to rest one of his cheek. "You've been so strong. What can I ever do to repay everything you've done for me and Vaughn? What would we do without you?" A silent tear started to roll down her cheek and she ducked her head slightly.  
  
Weiss finally found the tears that had refused to pour down his cheeks before. He found the emotions chocking his throat and the words wouldn't come. "We're gonna make it, Syd. You, me, Mike...all of us. Everything's gonna work out. Mike's gonna be fine."  
  
"The treatment didn't work." She blurted suddenly, snapping her head up suddenly.  
  
He felt like had been punched in the stomach. "Let's get you home." He stood up unexpectedly and offered his hands out again. "We need to get you home." He helped her to her feet and rested his hand on her back, slowly guiding her out of the room.  
  
She nodded tearfully and turned back towards Vaughn, "I'll be back soon, baby."  
  
"C'mon, Sydney." He wrapped his arms around her slim body and started to lead her out of the room, despite her slight physical protest that only lasted a few seconds.  
  
"I've gone through life on less sleep." She sighed and allowed herself to be led out of the room.  
  
Weiss laughed ruefully, "Aw Syd. C'mon. You're a strong one, Sydney. You can be a real SOB but you're a tough one."  
  
Sydney laughed a reply as she rested her head on his shoulder "You've always been so nice to me without second guessing it. Why? We barely know each other. And yet you've been there for me every step of the way. You forced me to see Vaughn again and what would I do without you? You've helped him with everything and you've helped me with everything. What would I do without you. I would have collapsed a long time ago." She smiled and looked up at him before yawning. "I'm sorry."  
  
"I know you're exhausted." He paused for a moment and tried to lighten the mood a little bit. "So will you show me Mike's drawer when we get back to your place?"  
  
Sydney simply groaned and buried her head in his shoulder as they continued down the bright hallway. She didn't want to answer and felt the flush rising in her cheeks.  
  
"Hey, I'm serious. I don't have a girlfriend to give me a drawer. I gotta live through Mike."  
  
"That's not true!" Sydney picked her head up suddenly and stopped moving for a moment. "I know you have an itch for Isabelle!" He opened his mouth to protest but was quickly stopped, "Don't even try to deny it! I saw the two of you kissing!" She grinned for the first time in a while. "You lo-ove her! You lo-ove her!" She started to repeat in a sing songy voice.  
  
"Sydney!"  
  
"Eric!"  
  
Weiss tried to find the right words and went through a series of opening his mouth and closing it.  
  
"Don't even try to deny it, Eric Weiss. You told Vaughn to take the plunge with me. You 'carpe diem' us to absolute death. You were almost killed a few years ago and you went through the whole phase of living each day as if it were your last. You've been in love with Isabelle Vaughn for a long time. Take the plunge. Go for it. You'll be happy you did."  
  
Weiss thought about this for a moment, "You speak from experience." They stopped at the elevator and pressed the DOWN button.  
  
"Finally being together with Vaughn was the best thing I ever did in my life. I love him more than anything else." 


	29. Breaking Point

            She sighed heavily and looked next to her to find him sleeping next to her.  Her white comforter was pulled around her body tightly but her bare shoulders were exposed as she rested on part of his chest.  She shifted quietly and watched the sleeping angel next to her.  She lifted her head up slightly just to watch him sleep. She was so content right now and all she wanted to do was stay there for the rest of her life.  She wished the world would stop turning and all she would do was stay here for the rest of her life.  For the rest of their lives.  Last night was the first time that they had been together since she had 'found' him at the hotel.  She watched the way his body moved up and down with every breath and how beautiful his bare chest was.  G-d, she loved him.

          His eyes lazily opened and he was pulled out of his dreams.  "Hey you."  His speech was soft and raspy.  His eyes fluttered slightly as he tried to awake slowly.  

          "Hey you yourself." She grinned back, running her hand under his cheekbone.  His skin felt soft and cool beneath her icy fingertips.  It was nice to feel his skin at normal temperature as oppose to the fever ridden state.  "How are you feeling, babe?"  There was a soft, peaceful calm that was drifting through the air and settled on their lazy feeling beings.  She sighed contently and realized how much she missed him before. 

          This was just the way it was.  After the first time they had been together, they were laying there with the warm morning sun beating down on their bare backs.  They had laughed and joked.

          _"How are we ever going to stay awake today?" She had asked, feeling a laziness possess her that she hadn't felt in a while._

_          "Who cares?" He had replied, stifling a yawn.  A lopsided grin spread slowly over his face as he laughed lightly and started to play with her feet beneath the comforter.  _

          But that was then and they were in a very new reality.  Time had moved quicker now as they realized it was more precious.  His time frame had been shortened and they realized that they had to live each day to its absolute fullest or life would never work.  He knew there would be one day that he wouldn't wake up but found himself caring less and less.  Ironically, they found themselves talking about having a baby more and more.  It was an easy conversation center and it was something fun to talk about over morning coffee and scones.  

          "I love waking up next to you." He replied turning towards her and smiling as he kissed lightly.  "I wouldn't trade it for anything else in the world."  He kissed her again.  "I don't think I tell you that enough."  One more kiss.

          "No, you don't." She replied, smiling into the last one.  "I think you could tell me I'm beautiful more." She spoke up again, dramatically pouting.  "I was starting to believe that I-"

          "What?  Beautiful?"  Vaughn cut in, his eyes finally lighting up with the spirit they had been void of for so long.  "Fine, fine.  You're beautiful Al……..no, no wait,  You're beautiful Jen-come to think of it; what was your name again?" Vaughn wrinkled his brow in false puzzlement.  "There are have been so many women floating in and out of here, I just can't keep them straight anymore."   He pursed his lips in frustration but quickly found himself smiling.

          She punched him in the arm as she sat up, bringing the top sheet up to cover herself, "Not even funny, Mr. Vaughn."  She continued to get to her feet, wrapping the eggshell colored top sheet around her body as her body slowly towards the bathroom.  "And just for that little comment, I get to the shower first.  No hot water for Michael Vaughn.  No hot water for Michael Vaughn." She said in a high pitch sing song-y voice.

          "Not fair!" He shouted from the bed, smiling at the ceiling.  "So not fair."

          "I got news for you!" She shouted from the depths of the bathroom.

          "What's that?" He picked his head up in actual interest.

          "It so is!" She shrieked, laughing all the way.

_@@@@@  _

           "Sweetheart, I know you.  You're holding all of this in and one of these days, you're going to give into it all and then not be able to function.  I need you to stay strong." Jack replied taking a slow sip of his cooling coffee.  He was trying to pry the information out of her that he knew was eating her alive inside.  They were sitting on a park bench one sunny afternoon.        

          The day was cool and Sydney was 'bundled' up with a long sleeved shirt and a fashionable scarf draped around her neck.  Her feet were covered in simple blue sneakers and her hair was pulled back with a claw clip.  She took a sip of her hazelnut coffee and shrugged her shoulders, "Dad, I'm fine.  We're all going to be fine.  Don't worry.  I think Vaughn and I do that enough for the rest of the human population.  I'm fine-really.  We're happy and trying to live everyday as best as possible.  We're fine, Dad.  Really."  She took a slow sip of her coffee, feeling the hot liquid pass over her lips.  

          Jack shook his head remorsefully, "I wish  I could believe you but everyone at the office has noticed that you've been distracted lately."  He spoke slowly and chose his words carefully.

          She paused for a moment and knew that she had to say the right thing.  Of course, she knew she hadn't been the same since Vaughn  had left.  There was something that had changed drastically in her attitude.  "Wouldn't you be too if you were in my shoes?  Think about it.  It's been a month since Vaughn was rushed to the hospital and it's been guess and check since then.  The treatment didn't work, so we're basically beating the clock.  I never know when I'm going to wake up and find him not waking up with me."  She looked away and felt her eyes rest on the playground and see the little children playing and screaming there.  Her free hand subconsciously found its way to her abdomen and rested there.  Catching herself, she moved her hand to the other side of the coffee cup.  "It's a scary world."

          "Yes it is." He paused for a moment but long enough for Sydney to jump in. 

          "Look at what we do everyday.  There's no sanity in that at all."  She laughed ruefully at her own life.  Look at what she did.  Look at who she knew.  Look at the man she loved.  Look at her family!  It was a joke, a sick lie that the universe was playing with her.  _*'Let's screw Sydney Bristow by any means possible!' those cruel and spiteful fates cry!*_

           "I never thought I would see the day that I would be sitting on a park bench with my daughter drinking coffee and discussing what I really do for a living." His voice was barely audible and even he couldn't believe what he was saying.

          This was clearly evident on his daughter's face.  She had turned to look at him and was completely puzzled by this.  Jack Bristow was actually showing emotion.  "I've been having this dream lately.  Almost every night now, actually.  I'm sitting in one of those big seat swings and there's a little girl curled up in my lap, reading a children's book aloud.  Little Maisie, I told you about Maisie, well, Maisie's playing off in the distance, dancing and singing.  It's then that I realize that the little girl in my lap is my daughter-she's mine and Vaughn's.  But the reality is, Dad, that if Vaughn and I were to have a baby, he would barely see her reach her first birthday."

          Jack adjusted his weight uncomfortably.  He didn't know what to say about any of it.  He cleared his throat loudly as he tried to get his thoughts in order.  "Well, Sydney-"

          She put her hand on his and smiled reassuringly, "Dad, it's okay.  I don't need you to say anything.  I understand.  This is new territory for me, too."  She looked at him and tried to smile.  

          "Sweetheart-"

          "No, Dad.  It's really okay." She answered again.

          He shook his head, "_Let me get this out, __Sydney." He replied in that no nonsense tone.  His eyes betrayed this steely tone though, "There is nothing that would make me happier in the world than to be a grandfather.  Any child of yours would be the most beautiful child in the world.  Second only to you, that is." He paused as he waited to further collect his thoughts, "Granted, she would have your temper, which you inherited from me and your stubborn streak, which is the fault of your mother." He chuckled lightly as he took another sip of coffee.  "Between all of that from you and the strong will from Mr. Vaughn, your little girl would always get her way."_

          Sydney smiled in absolute disbelief at her father's paternal side.  Her mouth seemed to gap open and all she could do was nod her head numbly.  Her father had never complimented her or told her how she resembled him or Irinia.  

          "You've thought of names, haven't you?" Jack replied to his daughter's bewildered look.  He smiled again, a foreign emotion casting over his face.  Now don't get me wrong, Jack loved to smile but he rarely had an occasion to smile.

          "Malia or Lily.  I don't know.  Maybe even Charlotte or Jacqueline."  She shrugged, still in absolute shock of the conversation.  "Jacob or Aiden maybe for a boy.  Or James.  I don't know."

          "Good strong names. "

          Sydney shrugged wit a small smile.  "I suppose.  I haven't really thought about it that much.  I just keep thinking that I'll have to leave the Agency if I do have a baby."

          "And then you'll get to be a school teacher.  You've been wanting to do that ever since you were little."  He continued on with his fantasy of his daughter's perfect life as he had envisioned it on the day she was born.

          "Yeah." She sighed, reminiscing of an easier time.  

          But the steely Jack Bristow was lost in a day dream of memories that surrounded him like a warm blanket on a cold winter's eve.  He was wrapped in its chill and its heartache.  He saw his little girl, pigtails and all and her sweet smile and her unconditional love and her salty clear tears. "You used to stand in your room and prop up all your stuffed animals…."

          ......

          _"Okay, everybody.__  We went over this yesterday!  Who is the bad guy in the THREE LITTLE PIGS?  What?  Who said the BIG BAD WOLF?  It was you Oinkie!  Then you get a sticker!" Five year old __Sydney__ proclaimed to her bedroom full of stuffed animals setting on her bed.  She had an oversized book in her hand and a roll of stickers in the other.  Her brunette hair was pulled back in a little pony tail and it waggled in the wake of her shaking head._

_          She didn't know of the two sets of eyes smiling down at their little daughter.  Jack stood, his arm wrapped around his beautiful wife, Laura, in the doorway.  "She's just like you, Laur."_

_          Laura laughed a light reply.  "She told me she wanted to be an English teacher.  I can't say that I'm unhappy."_

_          "She'll be an English professor.  She's too bright for anything less!" Jack proclaimed a little too loudly._

_          The little five year old's attention was jerked away from her little school.  "Daddy!" She exclaimed impatiently, "Miss Suze said that you need to be quiet during school and you and Mommy are talking.  That means you get your name on the board.  Don't make me give you a check next to your name or else I'll call your Mommy and Daddy and set up a confeinerance."_

_          "Conference, __Sydney__." Laura corrected quickly._

_          The frustrated girl through up her hands in aggravation, "Set up a conference with your Mommy and Daddy!"_

………

          "Yeah, I know.  How wonderful would that be?  I could be an English teacher but-"

          "There are no '**buts**' in this conversation, Sydney." The stern tone started to resurface in his tone.  

          "But he might not make it to see the New Year." She replied and at that moment, it felt like she had been smacked in the face with a piece of asphalt.  "I can't be a single mom."

          "I would be here for you.  You wouldn't have to go through this alone.  You have me, Mr. Weiss, Tippin, and Julia, and Francie."

          "Why are you being so supportive about this?" She asked suspiciously, her eyes brows raising slightly in concern.

          Jack sighed rather contently as he revealed a deep layer beneath his frozen exterior.  "I want you to be happy and I know that if Vaughn does one day pass on, then you will have someone here that can keep a part of him alive.  You'll have a baby.  You were my piece of Laura after that whole fiasco." He reached his paper cup up to his mouth and took another sip.

          "But you avoided me like the plague after Mom 'died.'"

          "It wasn't because of the reason you think, Sydney."

          "Then why was it?" She followed quickly.

          He sighed heavily and looked over the playground, "It's because I wanted to know what really happened to your mother.  I knew something wasn't right.  I dedicated myself to finding out about her death and in the process, I lost you.  I never meant to.  It just happened.  I never stopped loving you, sweetheart.  I just got caught up in finding the truth about your mother.   That's why I tried to get you the best.  I got you the best nannies, sent you to the best schools, made sure you had the best clothes.  I wanted to provide you with everything that would make up for what I couldn't give.  I regret losing you, Sydney.  I never wanted to."

          She bathed herself in the sunlight as her father's words sunk in, "I know, Dad.  I love you too."  She sighed and closed her eyes once more before slowly opening them and looking at her watch and sighing again.  "It's 2:30 already?  I have to get going.  Appointment."

          "Ah." Jack replied in a professional tone.  "Call me when you get home?  I want to make sure you got home safely."

          "I always do, Dad." She stood and kissed him on his forehead.  It had become their habit to talk to each other on the phone at least once a day, regardless if they saw each other during the day.  

"So, Doctor Craig, is it possible?  I mean, do I have a chance?" Sydney asked as she finished pressing out the imaginary wrinkles from her jacket and taking her purse in her hand.

          "Well," the white hair doctor replied as he leaned deep into his chair, "we'll do some blood work and keep a close monitor on all of your levels and keep our fingers crossed.  Unless you want to do something more drastic-"

          "No." She replied hastily and avoided his eye contract.  She started to concentrate on the frame sitting near the edge of the mahogany desk.  There were three shining faces, his, his daughter's and his granddaughter's.  What she wouldn't give to have a daughter.  She felt her body ache with want and need.

          "Well, then, we'll monitor your levels but Sydney, I don't want you to get your hopes up.  You've sustained creditable injuries and a massive build up of scar tissue.  It could be very difficult for you and Mr. Vaughn." Doctor Craig nodded.

          "Okay." Sydney replied, trying desperately to hide the disappointment in her voice as she thanked the doctor and walked out the door, fighting her emotions.  

"Sydney, I didn't say it wasn't possible but I don't want you to get your hopes it.  There are always more options and I can give you some hand-outs-" He immediately went to grab a series of brochures that had pictures of beautiful women with smiling babies on top.  

She swallowed hard and nodded her head, "He has no idea about any of this.  I want to talk to him before we do anything further."  She looked at him and smiled, "I'll go for that blood test and then we'll take things from there."  There was no arguing.  End of story.

The doctor opened his mouth but decided against it and smiled, "Very well.  See you in six weeks.  I'll be in touch."
    
                "Thank you." Sydney gathered herself and walked silently out the office, leaving the doctor behind.   She closed the door solidly behind her and walked slowly down the hallway. 
    
    _Time and time again I've said that I don't care_
    
    _That I'm immune to gloom, that I'm hard through_
    
    _        and through_
    
    _But every time it matters all my words desert me_
    
    _So anyone can hurt me--and they do_
    
    _So what happens now?_

She felt like she had been punched in the stomach as she entered the waiting room, full of happy women with normal lives.  How she hated them at that moment.  Well, not all of them.  Only the three that were pregnant.  She had read the reports and seen the pictures.  It was almost impossible for her to have a baby.  That was the final blow.  It was bad enough that she barely had a normal life and that the man she loved was dying but now, she couldn't even have a child with him.  

She knew she had to get out of there and fast.  The sterile smell of the pink little room made her sick and she felt numb with nausea in a flash.  Her eyes locked on the door and she quickly made her way out.  She would surely break down soon and no one would understand.  Her feet treaded softly out of the stone building and she suddenly stopped.  Fresh air overpowered her and she felt weak.  Now, she had never been a depressed person before but she had found her breaking point and so far past that……..she was done.

**She lost her mother.**

**She lost her fiancé.**

**She was a double agent.**

**She was lied to for years.**

**She fell in love with the one man she couldn't have.**

**She reconnected with her father.**

**She killed another man she loved.**

**She lied to her friends.**

**She found her dead mother.**

**She lost the man she truly loved.**

**She found him again, only to be faced with losing him.**

**She might never have a child.**

**She could be alone.**

Her car was sitting right in front of her and her hands had already dug into her pocket for her keys.  She just needed to go home.  But she continued to stand in that spot, her eyes welling with tears.  Slowly and reverently she made her way towards her car, with the most physical effort possible. Her keys slid into the ignition and before turning the car on, her hands dropped to her lap.  The tears started to course down her face, burning at her perfect colored flesh and turning it crimson.  This world was too much for her and all she could do was break.

AN: I hope I didn't make you cry too much!  I have two more chapters and then we're done with SHIVA'S FIRE.  If you're interested, I compiled a song list…kinda Shiva's Fire soundtrack, if you will. If you're interested, lemme know and I'll post it!

Look for an update on 12/15 and the final chapter 12/22!!  I'll also post a preview to my upcoming story, True Life!

Yours Always,

TheUptownGirl


	30. Answered Prayers

            Okay, one more chapter to go!  The lyrics are from Kelly Clarkson's "Low"  If I get enough of a response, I'll post the SHIVA'S FIRE soundtrack…yes, I created a soundtrack to my story….lemme know if you're interested!

            "Hey babe?" he called one particular bad day.  He was lying out on the couch, eating popcorn and watching a terribly boring movie on the television.  He was tired and he was weak but he really didn't care.  His body had grown weak to the point that going on long walks seemed like a thing of the past and going to the gym was absolutely out of the question.  His social life, however, was better than ever.  He and Sydney were constantly entertaining.  And he loved it.  He loved seeing the super spy that she was being so domestic.  She cooked five course meals with absolute perfection as he sat at the round table reading the recipe aloud.  His voice had grown raspy but there were more and more days that were good, rather than bad.  And when those bad days did come, he would lay in bed or on the couch with Sydney wrapped in his arms.  They caught up on all the movies that they had missed all those years.  Books that were always put on the "to do list" were suddenly being picked up and finished within days.  He suddenly found himself sharing the love of literature that she had loved for so long.  

            She walked into the living room, holding a glass of ice water in one hand and three orange pills in the other. "Doctor says to take these every six hours.  Go ahead." She padded closer to him and transferred the medicine to his chilled hand.

            He took it willingly and quickly slide the pills with the cool water down his throat.

            Satisfied with him, she took the glass back and set it down on the nearby end table.  Her free hand went to her hip, covered in winter white pants, "What did ya need, hun?"  A small smile started to play on her lips.  She knew it was nothing serious or else he would have called her something other than 'babe' and plus the tone in his voice revealed that he had good news or wanted to talk about something.  

             He set the book down on his lap and looked at her hard.  The soft cover of the book fell limp on his lap.  His tired eyes flickered with excitement.  She smiled and sat down on the floor in front of him, resting her chin on his knees.  He looked away from her and concentrated thoughtfully on the book, absentmindedly stroking her hair and face.

            "What are you thinking about?" She asked lightly.  An even bigger smile started to etch out on his face and she curled up closer to wait for his reply.  He looked towards her and leaned down to kiss her gently.  She smiled into it and relished in the way his lips felt against hers.  

            He broke away from her and a lopsided smile that her knees go weak  His eyes drifted away from hers a little bit and he watched the beautiful little black cat slink into the room.  He watched her every movement, his little dancer in the dark.  "That's some cat you got there, lady." He joked slightly.

            Confused, she turned to follow his sight line and saw Shiva strut in from the bedroom.  "Ah." She sighed and laughed.  "My little diva's back from her nap.  I swear, that is the most spoiled cat in the world."  She curled her arm around and rested her forearm against the sofa and rested her head there.  She had been feeling very fatigued lately and couldn't put a finger on why.  She knew she worried too much and that was probably wearing her down.  Yes, that was all it was……right?  

            He started to run his hands through her hair as he watched the cat dance along the wall.  "Weiss told me my little baby's fluent in French."

            Sydney quickly picked her head up and looked at Vaughn in absolute terror before groaning loudly. "He told you that?"  Just as fast, she pushed her head deep into the fabric and moaned in sheer mortification.  "Oh my gosh!"

            "He tells me everything, Syd."  He laughed slightly and shook his head in disbelief.  But slowly, something registered.  Something that he hadn't thought about for a long time.  It had been a few weeks since Weiss and he had gone out to a local burger place and had a long conversation about everything and anything.  He took a moment.  "I know about the pills."

            She couldn't say anything.  She just straightened up, looking away.  "He told you about that?" There was no trace of emotion in her voice.  Her brow knitted in anger and resentment.  A secret had been betrayed.  She couldn't look at him because she knew she would do something brash if she did.  "How much do you know?"

            "I know all of it-I think.  Pain killers?   To be going out on missions high on pain killers?  Oh my G-d, Sydney." He covered his face with his hands.  "Oh my G-d.  You could've been killed."  His voice was surprisingly steady but still revealed his absolute disbelief.  His eyes betrayed his calm exterior and revealed his true shocked interior.  

            "But I wasn't.  I never went on a mission when I was talking pills." She turned to face him and watched him look away from her skeptically.  "Really Vaughn.  I would never risk my life to that extent.  But when I got home-when I got home- It was just easier to deal with things sometimes but taking them.  They would knock me out and I would sleep for a change.  Do you know how many nights I spent just lying in bed, wondering what went wrong with us?  I mean, honestly, Vaughn.  You have no clue the heartbreak you put me through.  I died inside the day you slammed that door."

            "Don't you dare spin this on me." He managed to hiss.  

            She paused slightly and then got to her feet and crossed her arms over her chest and turned away slightly.  "He doesn't even know the whole thing."  Her tone was soft and hurt.  She was like a wounded swan, cowering.

            He sat up a little bit and looked at her hard and managed to speak in soothing tones, "Then tell me the whole thing, Syd."__
    
    _Have you ever been low? _
    
    _  
    
      
    
    _
    
    _Have you ever had a friend that let you down so? _
    
    _  
    
      
    
    _
    
    _When the truth came out _
    
    _  
    
      
    
    _
    
    _Were you the last to know? _
    
    _  
    
      
    
    _
    
    _Were you left out in the cold? _
    
    _  
    
      
    
    _
    
    _What you did was low _
    
    _  
    
      
    
    _
    
    _No I don't need your number _
    
    _  
    
      
    
    _
    
    _There's nothing left to say _
    
    _  
    
      
    
    _
    
    _'Cept I never thought it'd hurt this much to be safe _
    
    _  
    
      
    
    _
    
    _My friends are outside waiting _
    
    _  
    
      
    
    _
    
    _I've gotta go _

            She bit down on her lip hard and started to pace slightly, "It hurt me so much when you left.  I didn't know what to do.  I didn't know that I could be in that place.  To be hurt that badly at this age and oh my gosh, Vaughn.  I went days and days without sleeping.  I started to drink.  Not heavily but one glass of wine wouldn't work anymore, so then I moved to two and then four and suddenly, I was downing six glasses of wine every night and passing out on the sofa only to get up and go save the world with a hang-over!"  She threw her hands up in the air in aggravation.  "But I-I don't know how it happened.  I just remember finding the pills while I was looking for something else and then suddenly, suddenly I made a conscious decision to take them and I slept so good for the first time since that door slammed." She stopped and pointed to the door and watched it, her eyes glowing slightly.  She saw the door slamming all over again, " And then suddenly, it became so much easier to just swallow one or two pills and go to sleep and just be there and be in such a peaceful sleep."  She let her arm drop.  Her body hung in the air for a few moments and she felt like she being smothered.

            "Are you still taking the pills?" He asked coldly.  His green eyes held no emotion and he was all business at the moment.  He had no love in his voice and had propped himself up against the couch, a great deal of energy exerted to give her those cold looks.  She couldn't take it anymore and turned away from him decidedly, picking Shiva up into her arms.  He didn't hear an answer promptly and hissed, "Sydney, are you still taking the pills?"

            "No." She finally answered, the emotion drenching her voice and threatening to choke her.

            "What stopped you?"

            She kissed the little black creature and held her close to her body, her back still to Vaughn.  "I had them in my mouth and I had a bottle of wine in my hand.  I was debating what would happen if I took the two of them together and then-she jumped into my lap would of nowhere and just sat there.  That's when I threw the pills away and poured all the open wine down the sink."  She kissed Shiva again and set her down.  She swallowed a lump in her throat and turned back.  She shrugged her shoulders.  "That's it."  Her tone screamed desperation and she didn't know if she wanted forgiveness but she wanted something from him.  She felt like he owed her some sort of comment to her ordeal.    She pushed her emotions down her throat like she had done so many other times and was able to look at him without breaking down.

            "That's it?"

            "_That's.  It."_ She punctuated each word and nodded her head in agreement.  She sighed heavily and wanted to walk away but knew she couldn't.  She was the weakest she had ever been for ten months and if that didn't kill her, no bullet ever would.  

            He looked away from her and shook his head in disbelief as everything registered.  He scoffed slightly as he went  through each piece of information and finally came to a realization, "If you ever, **_ever _do that again, I will not hesitate to tell our superiors, send you for treatment, or leave you." **

            And that was it.  That was the last time they discussed anything even related to the pills.  She didn't walk to talk about her moment of weakness and he didn't want to talk about the fact that she fell so low without him.  He couldn't believe that she fell so fast without him there to pick up the pieces.  He knew that she worked in such a high pressure job and that she needed someone so desperately in her life to keep her stable.  She was unstable without him.

            So, life got back to normal or as normal as things got.  Sydney had taken a lighter case load and was able to be home more often.  Very few missions for the now renowned CIA analyst.  She was content with a desk job and Vaughn had been with the company so long that they had no problem giving him an extremely light caseload.  He worked mentoring younger agents that were having a difficult time coping with the new demands of the job.  He was perfect at it.

            Sydney was busy in the kitchen, humming happily as she prepared a wonderful meal for the two of them for dinner.  Time had been flying by and it was now nearly three months since her doctor's appointment  Her blood work showed good signs of what she hoped for and as recent as two weeks ago, she had another test.  She didn't tell Vaughn everything and she didn't think that she needed to.  She almost wanted this to be a surprise.  But as she pre-heated the oven to put the chicken in, the phone rang.  She darted towards it, picking it up with her spare hand as she continued to chop vegetables.  "Hello?"  She rested the black portable phone on her left shoulder.

            A soft male voice came over the receiver and she almost recognized it, "Yes, good evening.  May I please speak with Miss Sydney Bristow?" 

            "Yes, this is she."  Her tone was still very distracted as she chopped the bright orange carrots finely.  

            "Ah, Sydney.  It's Doctor Craig.   I'm glad I caught you." He happily chirped.  "Are you available to come down to the office now?"

            She stopped chopping and adjusted the phone from her shoulder, setting down her knife silently.  "Is something wrong?  I mean, I have my hands full right now-can't you just tell me on the phone."  Absolute dread started to fill her and her legs felt weak beneath her.  She gripped the countertop until her fingertips were drained of their blood supply and turned white.   Her heart started to pound loudly in her chest and she tried to listen with all of her might but found it increasingly difficult with the adrenaline pumping through her veins.  

            The was silence on the other end as Sydney's stomach tightened hard as she waited with abated breath.  "Well……I just wanted to say to you in person."

            She tried not to plead desperately but found an emotion ripping through her voice, "Doctor Craig, you can just tell me over the phone."

            "Well, then…….Sydney, I have good news for you."  She held her breath and gripped the phone tighter and the countertop even harder.  "I just got the results from your blood test-congratulations, Sydney, you're pregnant."

            She didn't know what to say.  That was the last thing in the world that she ever thought would be said.  Her voice dropped, feeling absolute disbelief take over her, "I'm what?"

            A light laugh filled her ears, "Sydney……..you are going to be a mother.  You're last blood test confirmed it.  Congratulations." The doctor's smile was audible through the phone.  

            Sydney felt like she was walking on air and had been punched in the stomach hard.  "Oh-I-thank-thank you, Doctor."  She let out a breath that she barely realized that she was holding.  Her legs felt like jell-o and nearly buckled beneath her.  She didn't know that adrenaline felt like this in this way.  She was going to be a mother.

**_Oh my G-d._**

            "I'll see you in about three weeks for a check-up?  My office will call you and set up an appointment.  Congratulations again, Sydney.  You're going to make a wonderful mother."

            She remembered at that moment that she had vocal cards and needed to speak, "Thank-thank you.  Good-bye."  Having a total out of body experience, she clicked off the portable phone and set it down on the cool black counter top.  Her mind was absolutely racing with ideas and reality.  She felt the adrenaline pump hard through her veins and she had to tell Vaughn but she wasn't sure how to put it.  She wasn't even sure how far along she was.  

            "Who was that, babe?" Vaughn called, his voice still slightly raspy, from the other room.  He was sitting at the dining room table with his laptop typing away on a new report that he needed to get in by the end of the week.  

            With her eyes still wide, she walked slowly into the living room, unable to from a coherent sentence.  Subconsciously, her hand flew down to her hips.  She honestly didn't know how to say this.  How do you tell the love of your life-your boyfriend-not even your husband-that you were pregnant but it was something that you both wanted or at least, she knew that she wanted and her thoughts weren't even making sense and goodness-

            Vaughn had perked up considerably and now looked to Sydney with an expectant face.  He learned that there were two types of phone calls.  A good one, bringing good news and a bad one, bringing bad news.  His titled his head to the side as he waited for her to speak.  "Syd?  Everything okay?"

            "Yeah." She managed to stammer and continued to walk over to the couch.  **G-d.**  Oh my G-d.  Oh my G-d.****

            "What's going on, Syd?  You're scaring me."  His brow quickly wrinkled in concern and he closed the monitor and swung his legs around to face her, resting his arm against the back of the chair.

            A smile big and wide started to etch across her face, "I'm pregnant." She finally managed to say.  Unbelieving, she looked down at her toned stomach as though a baby would appear within minutes.  She felt her heart beat widely and she couldn't believe anything that was going on.  

            "You're _what?" He replied, laughing in disbelief.  His hands overlapped hers and his eyes bounced back and forth between their hands and her eyes.  Slowly, his hands moved to her hips and his eyes grew even wider as he examined her stomach._

            "We're gonna have a baby!" She managed to cry, joy filling her heart at last as the thought finally registered in her brain.  Her eyes were wide and she felt the tears spring to them.  "We're gonna have a baby!"

            "We're gonna have a baby!" He repeated, his eyes mirroring his girlfriend's.   His mouth grew dry and he felt like his brain was swelling in his brain.  All they could do was laugh and hug and cry at the thought of a baby.  "But how?"

            "You know how!" She started to laugh uncontrollably and knelt down in front of him, pressing her forehead against his and smiled widely.  

            "No I mean, how?  The doctor said-"  The smile jumped from her face to and he just starred into her eyes with the most excitement he had ever felt.  

            "The doctor was wrong." She sat back on her haunches and looked at him, memorizing his face.  She found a more serious tone, still full of disbelief, "We're going to have a baby!"

            He couldn't remember a time when he was this happy, "We're going to have a baby."  

            "Do you want another one?" She reached over her chest and offered the big white box to him as they laid on the bedroom, starring up at the ceiling.  She felt so thoroughly sick and the gritty taste in her mouth was not making her feel any better.  

            He groaned softly and took the cardboard box still partially wrapped in plastic wrap and grabbed one of the saltine crackers.  He took a bite of it and felt the dry, salty cracker dissolve in his mouth.  But didn't dissolve the nausea that the two of the them both were experiencing, "This sucks."

            "Says the one with the larger than life vocabulary."  She grinned softly and rested her hands on her swelling stomach.  "This better be worth it."

            He titled his head against the cotton white pillow cases, "Well, unless she's a little brat-"

            "I seriously doubt that she's-wait-are you convinced we're having a girl?"  She giggled softly but stopped as a fresh wave of nausea crashed over her and burned her throat, already raw from the acid from her stomach.  She fought violently against it, croaking, "What if we're having a boy?"

            He was fighting his own waves of nausea as well, "We're having a girl.  I'm convinced of it.  I promise you, that baby in your stomach giving you all this grief is a girl."  He closed his eyes and stayed like that for a long time.  "She's going to be wonderful.  Smart and pretty and I will not let her date until she thirty and I swear to if a boy so much as looks at my baby, he will be dead before he can even blink."

            Sydney started to laugh again and turned towards him, a crumb still evident on her lips.  

            He glanced over at her and turned back to starring at the ceiling, "You think I'm kidding?  Do not tempt a man that knows over a dozen way to kill a someone.  **Do not tempt** me, Sydney Bristow.  I will kill any man that approaches our little girl." He choked suddenly and sat up with such force that the blood rushed around in his head and was instantly dizzy.  He swayed slightly as arched his back over and hung his head low.  Sydney followed, at a slower pace, and rubbed his back soothingly, "This better be worth it." He cursed as he leaned forward further to hide his face in his hands.  He hated this feeling more than anything and knew that his stomach was completely empty of all contents.  He had continued to receive chemotherapy treatment in hope that it would help shrink the tumor even a little bit.  Combined with Sydney's morning sickness, the two of them spent much of her first and part of her second trimester mornings in bed, eating saltines and waiting for their bouts to pass.  Weiss had joked and bought them _HIM _and _HER big yellow bowls for undisclosed usage…….They were bright yellow and had neon orange lettering on them.  Just looking at them made the pair sick._

            She rested her head on his shoulder and kissed the sticky skin.  Her tone was soft and calming.  "It will be.  You'll be around to see our daughter grow up and be wonderful."  She continued to rub circles on his back in a soothing way.  "It'll be worth it.  For both of us."


	31. His Daughter

LAST CHAPTER!! I'm sorry this took so long!  I hope it's not too lame!

            The tears rolled fluidly down her cheek as she reached out, feeling new emotions soar through her heart.  She had never felt this much pain before.  Nothing had ever prepared her for this.  No mission ever hurt this bad.  No torture made her ache this much.  This was a whole new type of pain that was completely indescribable.  Her body felt like it was going to split in two at any moment.  The clean hospital smell was lost on her as she focused on the one thing that mattered most in the world.  Her brown eyes, red with tears, flashed around the room to the familiar doctor's faces, who seemed to share the similar emotions.

            No one told her it would hurt this bad.

            Her arms reached out and the one man that mattered most in this world placed the other one thing that mattered most in the world into her arms.  The little red faced bundled was the most perfect thing in the world.  She cooed softly as her mother started to rock her back and forth in her arms.  "Shhh……..shhh……my little darling." She leaned forward and kissed her forehead.   She sat up slightly and tucked her hair, straying from the tight French braid.  She had held her little girl before but this time was different.  This time she could count fingers and toes and it was just her and the ones she loved starring at her.  Her daughter was more perfect than she could have ever imagined. Her little red head was covered by thick black hair.  She had dark blue eyes that seemed to look through her soul.  "My little darling." 

            Vaughn laughed a reply and sighed contently, "She's perfect, baby." He kissed Sydney's forehead, smiling into it.  "Absolutely perfect."

            Sydney reached up and touched his face, slightly stubby from lack of shaving.  They had hurried out the house early Saturday morning and considering it was Sunday, midday……..Vaughn was not exactly clean shaven.  Scruffy.  "Well, I think we did a pretty good job."  

            Vaughn sat down next to her, wrapping his arms around the two of them as the bright light from the crisp day filtered into the room.  "She's just as beautiful as her mother."  He kissed her temple.  "I never thought we would make it this far."

            "I know.  I know."  She sighed contently.  "These nine months have been the craziest I think ever and considering what the two of us used to do for a living, that's saying a hell of a lot." She joked and continued to rock her child, humming a melody beneath her breath. This was her favorite spot in the world, she decided quickly.  With her baby in her arms and her in her boyfriend's arms, nothing could go wrong.

            And it was absolutely true.  Sydney had officially resigned from the agency.  It had been a painful decision for her to leave because she had truly grown to love the people she worked with.  She never imagined that it would be that difficult to pack up her little carton and move on from the Rotunda, as it was now commonly called.  She said her good-byes to everyone, promising over and over to visit (Jack assured her that she would be granted access) with the baby but she knew in her heart she would never go back.  It was time for her to move on with her life and that life was with Vaughn and her baby.  And even though she and Vaughn decided not to get married, her life was just about perfect.

            She decided to tutor Middle School and High School students.  She had about fifteen kids that came in and out of her apartment.  She had never been happier in her life.  The piles of textbooks grew weekly and she started to go through books as if they were water.  The little apartment was completely redone as the pregnant women tried to find projects to keep her busy.  Gallons of paint were brought in and the ultra chic, ultra modern guest room was transformed into a beautiful child's nursery.  Gone were the bamboo and the white linen sheets.  Instead, classic Beatrice Potter.  Peter Rabbit and friends adorned the walls as Sydney learned to stencil, her tummy growing all the way.  But it was the passion for learning that helped her get up everyday.   She loved her 'kids' more than anyone else could have known.  They never knew what she used to do for a living but she would sneak in little tidbits that she had learned along the way. 

            "Did you know that in Saudi Arabia………."  "Well, you know that the Thailand landscape is…….."  Her voice was ring out, remembering a time where her life was put in danger on a daily basis.  

             Her answering machine, that fateful one that contained the message Vaughn had left the first time around, now held messages of excited students about passing a test or making the grade on a project that they had strived for.  

 Now, on the other hand, Vaughn was a much different story.  He kept his counseling up with the new recruits and helped them more than he could ever imagine.  Three times a week, sometimes less, he would manage to get to the Rotunda and collapse into the small corner of the building that became his office. There was a large black couch that those who came to talk could sit upon as he curled up, resting his war torn body.  They all knew of his condition and they all knew that he was not a certified counselor by any means.  But he was a friendly face that the young agents, mostly in their early twenties, sometimes late teens, could come running to at the end of a mission  and spill the overwhelming emotions.   They were a bundle of nerves and energy as soon as their planes land, they would bound into his office or leave long, breathless messages on his voicemail.  

            "Oh Mr. Vaughn-I just came back from Malaysia and they tried to kill me but oh my     G-d"  or "Hey, what's up?  Just got back from my trip and I wanted to tell you that I survived and I'm in one piece.  Yeah, I made it."  But he hated those other phone calls.  There were two types that he dreaded.  

"Hi Mr. Vaughn." Sarah Hanison, a twenty-four year old agent, with a degree in international relations and specialized in liniquistics began a tearful message on day,  "I just stepped off the plane and uh-I haven't told anyone this but-but Jackson-he didn't make it.  Oh G-d.  There was nothing I could do.  He got shot down and when I went to get him and he-he……"  Tears choked her voice as she started to sob.  She couldn't even finish the message she was so distraught.  Losing a partner was one of the most difficult things in their line of work.  And the little girl from Athens, Georgia learned it that day.

David Jackson's death shook Vaughn and reminded how dangerous the world really was.  This only added to the anxiety he was starting to feel for his unborn child.  But there was one phone call that shook him to the core and he never fully recovered from.

 "Agent Vaughn," his body always stiffened when that name registered over his phone, "this is Agent James  I was told to inform you that Agent Shepard did not make it back from her mission.  I'm sorry."  

            Those were the bad days.  Despite his illness, it was a horrible day when one of his agents-one of his friends were killed in the line of duty.  It brought back memories of Jeanette and all those times that they had near misses and the one time that he lost her.  He was never the one to tell the parents but he hated the funerals.  He attended three in nine months and he could clearly see their faces whenever he closed his eyes.  David Jackson, a strong twenty-eight year old former soccer player from Vermont, Connor Washington, a tall twenty three year old scholar from Duke, and Aurora Shepard, the beautiful little blonde stood about five foot three but was almost as powerful as the strongest male agent.  Aurora's death had hit him the hardest.  She was the most eager and loved her job so much.  She was so patriotic and was thirty seconds away from tattooing the flag across her lower back.  Aurora had this undying spirit and Vaughn took her under his wing to help her and guide her.  The reason?  

            "My mother and father were CIA." She responded suddenly during one of their coffee discussions.  She placed her warm cup of coffee down and looked at him with those pure, innocent blue eyes.

            "Were?" Vaughn felt the familiar worry lines take over his face.

            She sighed heavily and ran her finger over the rim of the mug, "My mother was killed while on active field duty.  They never told me details and told me it was classified."  She sighed heavily again and shook her head remorsefully.

            "How old were you?"

            "Seven and a half." She replied just as simply as it had been asked.  Suddenly, she took a real interest in the base of her mug and pursed her lips together tightly.  "Three later, my father was taken captive by Afghani rebels and I've never seen him since."  She took in a breath of air and puffed it out, "No one knows how much it hurts not to know what exactly happened to your father-how he died-if he died."

            Vaughn lean back into his chair and looked at her, "Aurora, I know that pain.  It eats away at your soul until it feels like you can't breathe.  I want you to know that.  I've been there-twice.  I know that pain and if that ever overwhelms you-I want you to come and tell me right away.  Sydney won't mind if you call at whatever hour.  That's how we first met and fell in love.  She called me one night and we met by the pier and-" he noticed Aurora's puzzled look.  "Feel free to call me whenever you need something."    

             She was captured in Chile two months after that conversation and tortured until her heart gave out.  Vaughn mourned for days as the girl, of only twenty, was laid to rest.    

            To add insult to injury, he was still quite ill and was not up to do what he used to do but he got by.  On more pills than ever, he continued to fight for everyday of his life.  Finally, the doctor suggested an risky surgery to remove most of the tumor.  With much anxiety, he consented to it and spent the next six weeks in the hospital, drifting in and out of a drug induced coma.  His counselees sent flowers almost daily and visited Sydney often, giving her ready made meals.  He made it through the surgery with flying colors and they all kept their fingers crossed that this time, he would be okay.  None of the doctors really knew what would happen from there but they couldn't have been happier for him than when they saw Sydney walking down the hallway with her little belly showing from beneath her tee shirts.  It was during his last week in the hospital that he received news of Aurora's death.    

            Well, the rest of the world was a completely different story.  Weiss finally took the plunge, as Sydney had urged him to do and he made the next step with Isabelle.  They were in love with each other but Isabelle had a hard time moving on from David and moving away from the Vaughn estate.  She still hadn't consented to move stateside but Weiss told everyone it was only a matter of time.  He loved Maisie like she was his own child and he basically told Isabelle, who he nicknamed Bella, that he would jump in front a moving train or a bullet for her and her daughter.  Isabelle replied with the same and declared to the rest of her family and friends that she was in love with him.  She was free of David and now, Weiss seemed to be a blessing from above. 

            But Weiss, in all, had 'forgiven' Vaughn.  He loved Vaughn like a brother and was happy that he was welcomed into the family with open arms.  Weiss spent more time doing analyst work than anything else. It allowed him more time to be with Isabelle and Maisie.  Finally, seven months through their dating, Isabelle moved away from the estate and into an old house that Weiss had purchased and renovated.  Everyone who knew either of them knew it was only a matter of time before Weis would pop the question.  And everyone who knew either of them knew it was only a matter time before Isabelle said yes.  

            Isabelle actually started to work on a children's book series.  She had said she wanted to do it since she was a child and now she had time to actually do it.  Maisie started to go to preschool, in the states and make many friends, going on many play dates.  She was kept out of her hair as Isabelle started to develop her characters that resembled much of her family.  She used herself and Claire as models for the lead character, Oddette.  With her light brown hair twisted up with a black chopstick, she spent much of her time on her sun porch with her laptop on her lap and a cup of tea in her hand.  She wrote until her fingers went sore or until it was time to pick Maisie up and Weiss came home.  Even then, she would find time to sneak off to finish the adventures of her beloved Oddette.  

            Now the baby of the family.  Claire had thrown herself into her work and had become one of the ranking members of the Thames House in London.  She loved her job more than anything and actually found love again.  Yes, he was an agent but she didn't care as much this time.  No, she still did care for him but the absolute terror of dating an agent was gone.  She tried just to go with her gut.  Her body had become absolutely trim and fit, the toned muscles sculpting out from beneath her black suits.  Occasionally, she was sent under deep cover and seconded to MI6.  She had dreams of saving the world and being wonderful but quickly realized her own mortality.  The world wasn't all James Bond and fancy gadgets.  She worked steadily and gained recognition.

            "You're the best I've seen in a while." Her supervisor admitted one night over late cocktails.  His black hair was ragged from a long day's work.

            "Thank you, Tom." Claire responded, taking a slow sip of the clear liquid that had tasted tart against her tongue.  A strong accent had taken the place of her French and now, anyone would think that she was born in the UK.  

            Tom took another sip of his drink, "What happened when you went home?"  He watched her carefully and tried to judge her composure.

            "My, aren't you out of character this evening?" She laughed lightly into her chair as she opened the cap off of the bottle and poured another glass full for each of them.  "It was wonderful and horrible."

            "That mission went awry, didn't it?"  He knew the details but wanted to hear it out of her mouth for some reason.  There was a certain companionship he felt with her than he felt with anyone else.  Without much thought or maybe too much thought, he placed his hand atop hers, causing her to look up with emotional eyes.   

            She sighed heavily, "There's no reason for me to go deep into them.  You may read my debrief. Take anything from there.  You know everything you need to know about me.  Take it or leave it."  She let her other hand drift on top of his and smiled softly.  "I must be destined for great things if my family is this crazy and screwed up."

            Vaughn leaned back slightly, stretching out his back, and sighed softly,  "What are we going to name her?"  His eyes filled with love and he knew that he would step in front of a train at that moment to keep this little nameless girl safe.  He had never felt this much love in his life.

            "I don't know.  I mean, we've gotten all those baby books but-what are we going to name her?"  Sydney sighed out of frustration.  She caught herself in such an act and laughed lightly, "This should be our biggest problem in life."

            "I have an idea." Vaughn kissed her forehead and wrapped his arm around her shoulder tighter.  With his other hand, he reached into his pocket and retrieved a baby name book.  Flipping through nonchalantly, he opened up to a page he had previously dog eared.

"Oh you do?" She replied, watching the red baby fuss slightly in her arms.  "Ah ah ah." Her mouth opened to a smile.  "Are you trying to talk already?  Just like your Daddy-an overachiever.  Relax, baby girl.  You're only six hours old."

  "Ava." He announced, scanning halfway down the page.  "It's Greek for 'like a bird.''

"Well, maybe she won't fly away." Sydney joked.  A bad joke at that but she gave herself a pity laugh all the same.  

Vaughn shook his head, laughing and  turned to the next marked page.  "Ava Faith." A smile started to spread over his lips.  

            "Ava Faith Vaughn." Sydney rocked the baby as she tested the name over her lips.  She repeated it once more and decided that she liked it.    

            "You want to use my last name?  We're not going to use yours or hyphenate it?  Ava Faith Bristow….Ava Faith Bristow-Vaughn?" He asked, a smile etching over his face slowly.  Today was a perfect day.  It was a warm May day with the bright sunlight streaming into the quiet hospital room.  This was the same hospital that he had spent so much time in during the chemo and after he had stopped breathing that one time.  

            "I think if she had her father's last name, that's good enough for me.  She doesn't need four names." Sydney replied.  "And besides, she'll have my temper, so she won't need my name for people to know that she's mine."  She paused for another moment as the true nature of her baby's name sunk it.  "Ava after Aurora, your agent, right?  And Faith, after your mother?"

            Vaughn immediately sobered up, "We don't have to use that name.  I just thought that Aurora was such a wonderful human being-you tutored her sister.  It was three weeks ago that we buried her.  Twenty-one days ago we put that beautiful little girl into the ground.  She was just a few years younger than Claire.  I still can't believe she's gone.  She was just a baby and they killed her.  She was just a baby." Vaughn sighed heavily and let his eyes flutter slightly, feeling his heart grow heavy and tears fill with unshed tears.  "So now, she can live on with our baby.  And with Faith as her middle name, she'll have a bit of my mother too."

            Sydney leaned into his jaw line and felt her own brow wrinkle in emotion, "Sweetie, it's a perfect name.  I think it's perfect for her.  Aurora was an amazing woman.  This will be the perfect opportunity to honor her."  She shifted her weight slightly as she tried to get comfortable.  "Do you want to hold her?  I'm getting tired."  

            Vaughn eagerly turned his body and lifted his precious little girl from Sydney's arms.  "Hi.  Hi there.  Yeah."  He cooed as he adjusted the little swatted bundle in his arms.  He started to walk around the room, gently rocking Ava in his arms as Sydney sunk down against the pillows and got comfortable.  "She's perfect.  Ten fingers.  Ten toes."  Sydney raised her eyebrows and Vaughn caught this out of the corner of his eye.  "I counted."  He sighed contently and starred down at the little girl with the big blue eyes.  They still hadn't figured out where she got the blue from.  "I-I just want a good life for our baby, Syd.  I mean, I was walking around before and life is so scary and so many things can happen and I just want her to be safe.  She's so beautiful, Sydney.  I don't want her growing up in a family that we always have to look over our shoulders every time we get together." He paused as he tried to get his words together.  He only wanted to make his point once and hoped he never had to do it again.   "We were spies, Sydney.  We were James Bond.  And now, we have a baby.  And this baby, she's so innocent.  We can't screw her up-"

            "Hey!  Watch it!  I have no intention on screwing her up, thank you very much." Sydney exclaimed jokingly.

            He found refuge in a nearby chair and eased himself into it slowly, "You know what I mean, baby.   But I was thinking about this and we've seen the worst of the worst.  How are we ever going to protect her?"  He looked up to Sydney, who found tears coming to her eyes.  "What's wrong?"

            She wiped her eyes slowly and shook her head dismissing any idea that something was wrong.  "I'm fine.  Just tired."

            "Why don't you shut your eyes for a little bit.  I'll look after Ava."  Sydney nodded her head silently before letting her eyes flutter close and slipped into a lightly sleep.

            Vaughn watched this transition to a sleeping state and found himself lost in the sight of the most beautiful woman in the world right before him with her child in his arms.  He stood up slowly and walked over to the large window with the rocking chair resting there.  He eased himself into the white rocking chair and started to rock back and forth, basking in the warmth of the sunlight. 

            This seemed a touch too poetic.  His body was destroying itself but at the same time, it was it was the same thing that helped give Ava life.  "Well Ava, I guess I should introduce myself.  I'm Michael Vaughn, your father.   Over there-that lady sleeping?  That beautiful woman is your mother.  And I hope for all of our sakes that you don't have her temper or else I might have to move out of the house." He laughed lightly at his own little joke.  "I have to warn you, Ava.  Our family's a strange one.  First there's Grandpa Jack and Grandma Irinia.  Now, they're your mom's parents and they don't get stranger than that.  But don't worry, Grandpa Jack will kill anyone that hurts you and Grandma Irinia would probably too.  We don't have any grandparents on my side.  They all died before you were born-but that's a different story for when you're older.  There's Aunt Isabelle and Aunt Claire, my sisters.  They're pretty nice, you'll like them.  You have a half sister, Maisie.  Although," He caught himself suddenly, "no one is suppose to know that she's your half sister but you're young enough not to understand, so I'll tell you now.  There's also Uncle Eric, my best friend, Uncle Will, your mom's best friend, Aunt Francie, her other best friend and oh yeah, Aunt Julia, Uncle Will's wife.  You see, we're all going to be here to watch you grow up and we all waited so long for you to get here and we all love you so much but-" He stopped with a sudden realization.  

            "And um…….I wanted to be the first one to tell you about what happened before you were born.  Well, maybe I should say this first; I've had cancer for a long time now, longer than you can imagine.  And I've tried everything they said I could possibly try…….that's how your mommy came back to me was because of one of the treatments.  But, nothing any of the doctors has done has worked.  And I might not around forever but I want you to know-right here-right now, that I will love you forever.  Oh G-d, Ava, I might not make it to your to your first date or your  prom or your first day of college……I might not make it to your first day of preschool or-" A sudden realization hit him and it hurt so badly when it did.  It hurt more than all the surgeries, leaving their painful purple scars across his chest, and all the treatments combined.  "I might not make it to your first birthday."  

            He rested his head on the back of his chair and felt his brow knot up in concern.  "But I will love you for the rest of your life.  No matter what, I will always love you.  Even when you start screaming or doing something rash, as I'm sure you'll inherit your mom's temper, I'll be in your corner.  I was your mom's guardian angel and one day, sweetie, I'll be yours." 

End.

Well, that's it.  I hope you all figured out why I named the story Shiva's Fire (and hint; it's not because of the cat).  I had a lot of fun writing this and I hope you had the same reading it.  If you're really unhappy with the ending, I can continue one or two more chapters if that'll make ya feel better.

TheUptownGirl  


End file.
